


Terms of Negotiation

by beskar_hearts



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M, I know it's unlikely but reader and Din have fun snarky sex, Mando is a hot dad, Smut, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, no y/n, not a slow burn, one of those where I borrow the circumstances of the show without using any of the plot of the show, porn but there's also plot!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:29:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 25,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27949844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beskar_hearts/pseuds/beskar_hearts
Summary: You threatened the Mandalorian’s child, which was not something he was going to take lightly. You were counting on that fact. Him fingering you in a shower was an unexpected detour from the end you knew was coming, but it certainly wasn’t an unwelcome one.A reader-insert story where the banter is fun, the story moves fast, and the smut includes high-fives. What more could you ask for in one of these things?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You, Mando/reader, Mando/you, The Mandalorian/Reader, The Mandalorian/You
Comments: 50
Kudos: 179





	1. Chapter 1

Infamy, once you were in the business of bounty hunting, was a tricky sort of balancing act. 

On the one hand, you wanted to be known, respected, maybe even a little feared. It was how you got work and it made your jobs much simpler if half the room left everytime you walked into it. 

On the other, it meant you had a target painted on your back, ripe for someone else’s path to the top. Depending on how good or bad at your job you were, a reputation could affect the quality and quantity of your work. 

So. 

It was a tightrope you’d been walking for a few years now; at many times canting dangerously from one side to the other, but never falling. 

Anyway. You were in a quiet corner of a grimy cantina on Egi; intimidating in that you were carrying a massive rifle but not because anyone knew (or cared) who you were. Your drink had settled towards lukewarm, making it harder to finish the last third or so, when he walked in. 

In terms of the proverbial bounty-hunting tightrope, you’d suppose the Mandalorian wasn’t actually balancing on it so much as he was hovering safely above it with the jetpack he had strapped to his back. 

The moment he walked in, all of the full chatter in the room quieted, heads (or their equivalents) turned and upon recognition pointedly looked away. It wasn’t until he’d taken a slow, measured step forward that you noticed the cradle hovering a foot to his left. A baby - tiny, green, pretty cute - peered out of it, taking in the room with wide eyes. How someone could be so endlessly intimidating while dragging his baby around was beyond you. In fact, when you’d heard about it, you had been kind of worried. What would stop people from trying to hurt the kid if not for how fucking scary the Mandalorian is? 

You quickly realized the baby didn’t really dull the effect of him at all. In fact, it read more as a ‘push here to get your head blown off’ button. And it was that thought that gave you the idea. 

Without letting yourself over-think it too much, you stood from your seat and waved a hand. “I’ve got room.” You spoke too loudly for how dead silent the room was, you realized instantly. This time, all heads turned towards you. Their gazes remained on you long enough for you to know they weren't _quite_ sure who you were or why you might have a death wish, but they did want to memorize your face so they could tell the stories to their buddies later. And to identify the body, maybe. 

He was staring at you as well. Presumably. Then his baby cooed and began waving back. You felt herself smiling at that. The kid was actually _really_ cute. The Mandalorian looked down at him, then back at you, then walked the rest of the way to your table. He set down his own rifle before sitting in the other chair, helmet still turned towards you. 

You sank into your chair. 

You sat there, staring in silence at each other for what felt like an eternity. It wasn’t broken until one of the bartenders came around, placing the meal you’d forgotten you’d ordered in front of you. You turned to thank them, but they were already gone again. 

You looked back up at the stoic figure again, taking a bite of the dish in front of you. The cantina was supposedly well-known for the way they cooked this particular fruit, and you found it wasn’t bad; better than the drink anyway. You hummed and noticed the baby staring at it intensely. “Want some, kid?” 

You looked up at the Mandalorian as you pulled off a piece, moving slowly in case he wanted to stop you. He’d watched you eat the first bite, surely he knew it hadn’t been tampered with. When it seemed like he wasn’t going to intervene, you turned to look at the baby and hand him the food. He took it eagerly, smiling up at you as he chewed. You smiled back. 

“Cute kid,” you said finally. He didn’t respond, so you continued. “He take after you?” 

“He’s a foundling.” 

You weren’t expecting an answer, and you blinked at him in surprise. “How about that. You must be pretty soft under all of that armor.” 

He stared. “Do you intend to test that theory?” 

You smirked and shook your head in a negative. “No. I’m not stupid. I’ve heard about your kind. And you, specifically.” With that, you continued eating your meal, occasionally sharing with the child.

Throughout the meal, you’d eased herself closer to the little being, moving to make the necklace around your neck catch the light and twinkle into his eyes. Finally, _thankfully,_ his little hand reached out and tugged on it, pulling it right off of your neck. 

You froze, pulling away from the child and looking back at your silent companion. Playing up the accident. 

“Give it back,” he ordered, tone leaving no room for argument. 

“Wait,” you said, holding up two hands, “he can’t.” 

He turned sharply towards you. “Why?”

“You’ll have to let me explain. It’s gonna sound bad.” 

Before you could blink there was a blaster aimed at your face. A beat of silence. Then the entire cantina cleared out. He didn’t speak again until the clatter died down. 

“Talk fast.”

You gulped. “It’s a… it’s a bomb.” You managed a weak smile. “I call it my booby trap.” He didn’t seem amused, so you dropped the sheepish look and continued your explanation. “It’s bio-seeking. Uh, linked to his biology. If he reaches the edge of its blast radius, it’ll go off. And even if he keeps it close, it’ll blow in five hours.” 

“Disarm it.”

“Here’s the thing. I’m going to. For sure. I don’t want anything to happen to your kid. But,” you swallowed, “I really need your help with something.”

The safety clicked. “No.”

“Hear me out! I was given this bounty, right? But I found out it was a set up by the guy who gave it to me. If I kill them, I get the bounty. If they kill me, they get the bounty. There’s too many of them for me to take alone, and they know I’m coming. If you help me get out of this alive, I’ll disarm the bomb. But if you shoot me now, or let me die… well.” The baby cooed, still playing with the weapon. 

“And there’s more,” you continued. “I’ll let you have the bounty too. All I ask is that, before you shoot me for this, you let me kill the motherfucker that set me up. That’s all.” 

He was silent, not moving a single millimeter. Then: “You want your last act to be a revenge killing?” 

You shrugged. “I know how it sounds. But at least I get to die on my terms. You in?” You worried if you’d even be able to hear him over the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears. 

The weapon never lowered. But he did answer. “Where?”

You smiled. 

* * *

The bounty was a small clan. Three hunters who worked and lived together. You knew vaguely that their species’ warrior culture had some sort of family structure built around killing together. 

Your death would have probably been some weird foreplay for them or something. Their hut was small and nondescript. And in that way it was almost too obvious. If you hadn’t been lucky, you would’ve just attacked them in it. But you were lucky, this time around, and a rumor led you to finding further intel, which was how you learned about the tunnels under the hut. 

You would’ve burst in, maybe thrown a stun grenade, and fully given away that you were there. Then they’d appear out of nowhere and take you out. But now…

“It’s going to be easy. Really. I’m going to draw them out of the tunnels then you pick them off when they run,” you explained, putting the final touches on your bomb’s blasting cap. 

You would detonate it to collapse one of the two exits to the tunnel, leaving them with one direction to go and no options to send back-up. 

“How am I supposed to watch your back if you’re underground?” 

You snorted. “I can take these assholes, don't worry about me in there. Just be ready to snipe ‘em.” 

He grabbed your arm roughly. “If you die, so does my kid.” 

You huffed. “Fine. Come with me then. But that means we’ll have to chase them down.”

He gave you a short nod. 

“Alright then,” you said with a shrug. “let’s do this.” You led the way into the tunnel, hearing the Mandalorian behind you. He’d already sent the child into the forest within his cradle. The bomb was tucked into the bedding under him, close enough to keep it from detonating but hidden from his inquisitive grip. 

After about 100 feet, you pulled out the detonator for the bomb you’d set up. “Detonating now.” The blast caused a low rumble, easily mistaken for a large ship taking off if you didn’t know any better. 

You took a deep breath, pulling a long knife from the sheath on your hip. “You ready?” He didn’t respond, just stared at you with the expressionless helmet. “Alright, good.” 

You led the way, hearing them before seeing them. 

“When do you think she’s going to get here?”

“Soon, probably. She’s expected before the evening.”

“Should we kill her right away, or maybe have some fun?” 

“Let’s see what she looks like first, huh?” 

You cringed before looking back at the Mandalorian and shrugging. Then you held up her knife with a wicked grin. “I’m going to cut off whatever their sexual organs are. Let’s see if they think _that’s_ fun.” You whispered to him before taking off into a sprint. 

You heard him right behind her as you came to the clearing in the tunnel. You jumped onto the back of the closest hunter, sinking your knife into his neck. You hadn’t even pulled it out yet before a blaster shot skimmed the air just past your head. When you whipped around to look, you saw the Mandalorian already turning to chase the last of them out of the tunnel. 

You dismounted to do the same, noting the fallen hunter just behind you. _Fuck_ but it was nice to have some back-up. Without missing another beat, you ran from the tunnel. The men were grappling, the Mandalorian must’ve tackled the other. You pulled your blaster from its leather harness and watched the fight carefully. There was only a split second of opportunity when your shiny ally ducked a punch, and you shot a blast directly into the eye of the last bounty hunter. 

The Mandalorian turned after the last shot, expressionless as ever, obviously, but you thought maybe he might have been impressed by the angling of his head. You tucked your blaster away. “I know we weren’t keeping score,” you began, sauntering up to him and kicking the dead bounty’s boot, “but I won.” A sound was caught by his modulator. If you were completely insane you might’ve thought it was a snort of amusement. 

He pressed a button on his gauntlet and the child’s cradle floated into view from its hiding place in the forest. “Disarm the bomb.” 

“I would, really. But I don’t have a better way to keep you from shooting me if I do.” You raised her arms in surrender again. 

He waited until the cradle was next to him before speaking again. “You have my word.” 

“I don’t know if that’s worth anything.” 

“I keep my word.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?” 

“Yes.”

And. Well. So you knew it was stupid to take his word for it, but you hadn’t noticed him take part in any subterfuge. Really, he could’ve killed you a while ago and probably figured out another way to save his kid. But he didn’t. He heard you out and took the job. The Mandalore were allegedly people of great honor.

So you took a few slow steps forward to grab the necklace from its hiding place. You remained close to the baby as you disarmed it carefully, the sequence easy as breathing. The baby watched the light glint off of it in wonder, reaching towards it. You huffed a laugh. “No, baby. We don’t want to do that again, hmm?” 

As soon as it was done, you stepped back, replacing it around your neck. You took a shaky breath as you turned to look at your silent companion. He stared back. 

“We should retrieve the quarry.” 

* * *

It wasn’t that you _enjoyed_ killing, nor did you generally derive any satisfaction from it. It was nice to be skilled, sure, but mostly you just liked getting the job done. 

This, however, was an exception. 

You truly, _truly_ enjoyed the look on that smarmy bastard’s ugly fucking face as he bled out in front of you. You even managed a decent, gloating monologue. Hopefully he was still conscious when you left with your payment in hand. 

The elation of the kill was almost enough to make you forget what was waiting for you in your rented room. 

_Almost._

The Mandalorian was sitting when you walked in, back straight and blaster resting on the table in front of him. As soon as you shut the door behind you, he picked it up and pointed it at you. It was slower than you knew he was capable of. Lazy, even. 

You raised your hands for the third time that day. “Alright, I get it. You kept your word. And I’ve got your credits.” You considered your next question. It was strange he hadn’t shot you yet. Almost like he was expecting your next question. “Before you do it… could I take a shower?” 

He didn’t answer for a long time. But he also didn’t shoot you, so. Then he rose from his seat, blaster never wavering. “Lead the way.”

You blinked in surprise, then slowly, _slowly_ dropped your arms and turned to the bathroom. You almost thought he’d shoot you in the back, but the thought left as quickly as it came. He was an honorable guy. And he kept his word. 

The bathroom here was pretty nice. You wish you’d taken advantage of it more, suddenly. He followed you fully into the room and closed the door behind you both. You faced him, raising a brow. “Uhh…”

“Go ahead.” 

At first, you thought _huh, maybe he’s kind of horny._ Then you realized he was making sure you weren’t going to try and make a break for it. Then it crossed your mind that it was a little of both. 

Well then. 

With a shrug, you began to strip. It occurred to you that you should be shy, but honestly, you were sore and covered in dirt and blood and you couldn’t really bring yourself to care anymore. It was nice to get out of your grimy clothes, circumstances aside, and when you set the temperature of the water in the refresher to its highest setting; wow. 

You hummed with pleasure as you stepped under the spray. It was just a shade too hot, a little too powerful a stream. It was heavenly compared to the cold and weak showers you generally had on your ship. 

The Mandalorian was silent on the other side of the curtain. You should’ve enjoyed a nice shower to yourself. After all, it was your last one. But you couldn’t help your nature, the way you chattered when you were nervous. And you _were_ nervous. 

“I’m gonna, I’m gonna open this. Is that okay with you?” You didn’t wait for an answer before sliding the curtains open. You continued your shower as you spoke, unconcerned with the water getting all over the floor. “So, I want to explain myself a bit, here.”

He wasn’t actively pointing the blaster at you anymore, but that didn’t really mean much when it came to someone so skilled. “Why? You’re about to die.” 

“Which is why I _should,_ ” you insisted.

He shrugged, a gesture that was kind of strange on someone generally so stoic. “I don’t care.” 

That worked too. “The thing is. I’m a decent bounty hunter, you know? I mean, I can get a job done. But I’m not, like, amazing at it. I don’t have a cool helmet to make me all intimidating. Even if I did, I think I’d probably talk too much for it to work.” 

“You talk a lot.” 

You laughed, and it was a little sad, even to your own ears. “I know. It has not once helped me. Anyway. This is the second guy to do this to me. A double-crossing bounty, I mean. And honestly, I knew the credits were too good. I don’t get well paying jobs, usually. And I’m running out of credits and my ship is falling apart. I can tell I’m-” you hiccuped, surprised by your own tears, “I’m running out of time. This life is catching up to me. And I’m tired of running and I’m so _scared_ all the time. Because I know I’m going to die doing this but I don’t know when or where or who.” You offered him a weak smile. “So I chose. Here. Now. You.” 

There it was. You’d pretty much bared your soul. Not for any particular reason, you supposed. Because you wanted to. And it felt like you could make choices like that in your final hours. Actually, the more you thought about it, the more liberating it felt. You felt bolder. You could say or do whatever you wanted. It wasn’t going to matter.

The Mandalorian was silent. Obviously.

“You know,” you began conversationally as you began washing yourself again, “You’ve been real nice to me today. I appreciate it. And I was just thinking about how I’m about to die, and you know what I’d really like?” 

“I don’t care.”

“An orgasm.” 

You spoke over each other, the words mingling and hanging heavy in the air. Finally, you broke the silence with a long sigh. “C’mon. I know I can’t see your face or your dick. But a hand?” You stared at his glove, considering it’s size. “Yeah. I think I could cum on your hand.” You shrugged. “If you’re still feeling nice.” 

He was so still, and you wondered why. Was it because he was considering it? Or was he angry? Maybe he was a massive prude. That would kind of be funny, considering he was practically _dripping_ sex. You hadn’t let yourself think about it much, but damn. What a way to go. 

You were pretending to ignore him, flippant. But you were tracking his movements out of the corner of your eye. He reached behind him, grabbing the sash from your black robe. He took two measured steps towards the refresher and held it out. 

“Cover your eyes.”

You hadn’t ever felt your jaw literally drop before. In fact, you almost didn’t realize until you felt your jaw twinge from going slack so suddenly. You closed your mouth quickly and grabbed the sash from him. “Seriously?” 

He just stared, and you decided not to wait for him to change his mind, wrapping it around your head and covering your eyes. You even closed them underneath, even though your vision was already fully obscured. You tied it tightly and felt him inspect the knot after your hands fell. You were already buzzing with anticipation. The shower suddenly seemed too hot. 

There was a soft sound as he removed his glove and placed it on the counter. 

“Just one?” You asked, because this was already insane and you couldn’t keep your mouth shut if your life depended on it. The sound happened again, though. You were smiling so broadly your cheeks were hurting with it. “Nice.” 

You were standing too stiff, you knew. Twitching, even. The lack of sight was actually kind of hot. You wished you’d tried that before. Then a pair of calloused thumbs were brushing across your exposed nipples and your breath caught. It happened again after a pause. Then again. 

“Are you doing this to watch my nipples get hard?” You asked, amused and turned-on. 

“Yes.” 

You laughed at the honest and blunt response, and the sound turned into a delighted hum when he finally grabbed your breasts firmly with his hands. What a grip! He played with your chest a little, alternating between kneading them and tweaking at your nipples. Your hips twisted when gave one a lightly painful tug, searching for contact that wasn’t there. 

His grip snapped down your hips, holding them still. “Where are you going?” 

“Get on with it.” 

He spread his hands, pressing his thumbs to your hipbones. He was so _close_ to where you wanted him that the action made you twitch again. “You’re impatient.” The tone was fully observational. He could have been talking about anything. 

“What the fuck could you be taking your time for?” You ground out. 

Then his thumb was on your clit and you made a sound that was downright embarrassing. Your hands flew to his shoulders as he massaged you there, still unhurried even as you squirmed under his ministrations. 

“Maker,” you breathed, “that’s _nice.”_ It was nice. Really. But you needed more. You tried to grind your hips just a little, increase the pressure, and he removed his hand completely. “Hey!” You snapped. A moment later, you felt his slick hand - was that from you? Yeesh - grabbing your leg just under your knee and lifting it until your leg was propped up on the edge of the tub. You didn’t even really have time to process that before a long, blunt finger was pressing into you. “Fuck!”

Alright, you hadn’t been expecting that. But it was a very welcome surprise. His finger curled inside of you, and your eyes rolled back for a moment. “This how you’re planning to kill me?” You pant out, groaning when he responded by pressing his massive palm to your clit. You ground against it happily, rolling your hips and gasping every time you caught yourself on a rough patch. “Your hands are dry.” 

“Not currently.” 

You threw your head back as you laughed. “Can’t believe one of my last acts is going to be stroking your ego.”

He went quiet again, but it was all well and good because he’d just put another finger in you and all your focus was turned to chasing your orgasm. He switched from using his palm to his thumb again to apply more concentrated pressure and curled his fingers right against that fucking _spot_ inside you and you gasped out your pleasure as you came. 

He held onto you just long enough for you to steady yourself on two feet and realize the water had turned ice cold during your little romp. 

You gave a short yelp and fumbled with the faucet. He must’ve heard your idiocy. “You can take the blindfold off.” You did so, tossing the damp fabric into the tub. 

The water stopped running and you turned to see the Mandalorian standing there, still and intimidating as ever. He hadn’t aimed his blaster, yet, but his hand was close to it. You stood as straight as you could looking right into the visor of his helmet. “Okay. I’m ready.” 

And you were. You got everything you wanted out of these last few hours. This wouldn’t be the most dignified death, maybe, but you didn’t lead a very dignified life, so maybe this was symbolic in some way.

He was still staring. “Go put some clothes on.” He tossed you a towel. “Something you’d die in.” 

You caught the fluffy towel, eyes wide. “Really?” He didn’t answer, and you figured he wasn’t the type for repeating himself. You dried quickly, not really wanting to test his patience before leading him back out of the bathroom. 

The room wasn’t terribly large, so the main room and the bedroom were essentially the same thing. The cradle was hovering near the bed, and the top was down to reveal the child’s inquisitive eyes and cute little face. He made a noise of excitement when he saw you, recognizing only the person who gave him food and something to play with. 

You grinned back. “Hello, little monster.” You felt the cold metal of a blaster tap the back of your thigh. 

“Dress.” 

You walked over to your bag to dig through it, trying to decide. You didn’t have any tokens or anything that marked you as special. You didn’t belong to anyone or anything. 

So. 

You pulled out the one set of pajamas you owned. They were stolen from a wealthy bounty’s house ages ago. A special treat that you only wore on the rare occasions you’d stay somewhere decent for the night. 

You finished drying and dressed quickly, the Mandalorian watching silently. When you were done, you stood straight, facing him. “Okay.”

His blaster was in his hand but hadn’t been raised yet. “This is what you want to die in?” 

You shrugged. “Honestly… I think, in my last moments, I could use some softness. Haven’t had much of it in my life.” 

He continued staring. Then he raised the blaster, aimed it at your chest, and fired. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You could make yourself mean something to someone, you knew you could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This thing got fucking LONG I don't know how or why lol. Also I know this was supposed to be high porn low plot but my hand slipped.
> 
> I'm on Tumblr if u want to talk! @beskar-hearts

You’d been shot by blasters with stun bolts in them before. Your previous sentiment stood: you’d rather get shot by a real one. 

The stun bolts not only knocked you unconscious, but the electric current caused every single muscle in your body to tense, meaning you were sore for at least a solid week after. Then there was the fucking _bruise_ it left behind wherever it made contact.

All in all, they were horrible. And the second you woke up, you knew that the Mandalorian may have spared your life, but he was still pissed about you giving his kid a bomb, which, okay, was fair. 

“Fuuuuuuuuck,” you groaned out as you woke to familiar but unpleasant sensations. “You should’ve killed me.” Your chest had to be one massive bruise. It had to. 

The Mandalorian was standing next to your bed, holding his kid. The baby babbled at you, smiling at your pain, probably. Figures that he was raising him to be a massive dick as well. 

You sat up, the motions stiff as your muscles screamed in pain. “Why, ah!” The effort of turning yourself to sit on the edge of the bed almost proved too much. “What’s going on?” 

He watched you struggle, showing no indication of sympathy. “A negotiation.”

You blinked. “Huh?”

“You work with me. Help with the kid. And I give you ten percent of the bounties.” 

You weren’t sure if it was a lingering effect of the stun, but you thought maybe you were having a hallucination. “W-why?” 

“More help, more bounties.” 

Well, obviously. “But why _me?”_

His helmet tilted, as though he were in thought. “You’re a decent shot.”

“Thanks.” 

“And he likes you.” He raised the baby slightly. It gurgled. 

“Well, he’s a baby.”

“Are you not going to accept my offer?” 

You breathed out a startled laugh. “What? Of course I am. I’m just having trouble seeing what you get out of this. You don’t really need anyone to watch your back.” It was probably dumb to point this out to him, but some combination of your shock, the stun, and the early hour had your head spinning.

“No,” he agreed. “But it’s not just my back I’m watching anymore.” 

And it occurred to you then that it probably was kind of hard to go from a life of total isolation to one that included a kid. The baby seemed happy, so you imagined the Mandalorian was doing a decent enough job. But it was probably hard. 

“Four bounties,” he continued, “to convince me you’re an asset.” 

You nodded slowly. “Yeah. Okay.” You stood, slowly and awkwardly, and held out a hand. “Deal.” 

He looked down at it, then back up to your face. “Change. We’re leaving.” Then he turned to walk out of the room and wait outside. 

You let your hand fall back to your side. You doubted you would make it much longer if you were cast out on your own again. You had to prove you were worth keeping alive in _four bounties._ They were not good odds, but you’d faced bad ones before. Four bounties?

Yeah, you could do that.

* * *

Most of the last day or so had been spent traveling through hyperspace. You’d passed the time cleaning your weapons, making sure they were in perfect working order. You weren’t _nervous,_ per se. You rarely were before a job. After all, you’d either succeed or die so it’s not like there was any mystery involved. 

But this time… well the Mandalorian was going to expect some level of professionalism from you, surely. Once you had all of your equipment up to snuff, however, you realized that you were at a loss of how to proceed. You felt like you were invading in the lives of the other two occupants of the ship.

Even so, it was mildly amusing to watch them. The baby had the Mandalorian wrapped around its little clawed finger. He was fed when he wanted to be, held when he wanted to be, entertained when he wanted to be…

Not to say that the warrior would drop his responsibilities just for the little thing, but if he wasn’t doing anything important in that moment, he’d humor the child’s wishes. 

The child, for his part, seemed to recognize when to ‘ask’ for what he wanted, always catching his guardian right after an important task had been completed. 

Until that moment, however, when the child grew impatient with the Mandalorian’s weapon repair. The child had shuffled over to him, making some sequence of sounds that must’ve been recognizable to the Mandalorian, because he responded with a short “No.”

The baby made a soft sound of distress before walking closer to his guardian and tugging gently on his pants. Once again, the man responded negative. “Not now.” 

The baby must’ve never heard no twice before, because his lower lip began to tremble and it’s big eyes grew watery. It might be over-stepping, but it felt like it was time to intervene. 

“Woah now,” you said, walking over and scooping him up, “what’s all of this for?” 

The baby babbled at you, clearly trying to explain his plight. 

“Mmmhmm. Your papa being mean to you?” 

“I’m not being mean,” he snapped, not looking away from his task, “but I have to make this repair before we go after our next quarry.”

“Woah, _I_ know that. It’s this guy,” you bounced the kids in your arm, causing a bubble of laughter, “who didn’t get the memo. C’mon then, let’s have more fun _right over here_ .” You took a couple steps to the left, hardly a massive separation, but it was more about the _symbolism_ than anything. Besides, you didn’t actually think the Mandalorian would let you out of his line of sight with his baby. 

“That’s right, we’re about to have _so much fun_ without you!” It wasn’t likely the baby knew what you were saying, but he seemed to appreciate the theatrics and the attention, so you’d consider it a win.

It was during your rousing game of peek-a-boo that the real culprit became apparent: the baby was just sleepy. His blinks became slower and slower until you scooped him up into your arms again. He immediately nestled closer to your warm body and fell asleep. 

The Mandalorian was already pushing the cradle towards you. You halted its short mid-air flight with an outstretched hand and tucked the baby into it, wrapping it securely in its blankets. The dome snapped shut with a command from his vambrace. 

You looked over to see that he’d finished with his weapon, maybe a little while ago, and had taken to watching you. 

“Thank you.”

You grinned at the words. “Sure thing. Don’t know how you’ve been doing this solo so far.” There was enough of a pause that you figured he wasn’t going to respond to that. “But, uh, to be honest with you it’s also selfish. I mean, I didn’t want to hear his crying either.” 

No response again. “We’re another day or so from Ibalond,” the location of your next quarry. “I need to stop at a market for rations and ammo.” 

“Sounds good, Mando.” You tried the nickname with a grin. You figured he wasn’t going to offer you a name, which was fine, but referring to him as the Mandalorian everytime you wanted his attention was unrealistic. 

He ignored you entirely and strode past you to climb into the cockpit. The silence made you cringe. There was no way you’d be able to guess what he would or wouldn’t want in a live-in bounty hunting partner. Maybe someone more like himself. After all, he seemed to barely tolerate your conversations at best. 

You’d heard his snark before though. He was a pretty funny guy, when he wanted to be. Maybe he was just shy. Or trying to uphold his reputation. With a sigh, you realized that overthinking was more likely to stress you out than help you determine a best practice when it came to him. You followed him up the ladder. 

The cockpit of his ship was large enough that you didn’t feel too much like you were crowding him when you plopped into the co-pilot’s seat. Silence settled over the cabin as he made minor adjustments to your flight. 

You were surprised when he spoke. “The quarry isn’t a fighter,” he said, not looking up from his task, “But he’s going to have a security detail with him.” 

You nodded. “Alright. Highly trained?” 

He paused as he thought. “Local hires, more likely.” 

“Hmm. Could be anything then.” You tapped your fingers. 

“Yes. We need to stop in a market. I need a part for my jetpack.” 

“Sure,” you said, though it wasn’t as if your opinion was going to change his mind. “The kid would like that, huh? Little monster likes chaos, from what I’ve seen.” 

“He does.” 

The conversation was so casual, it could’ve been about anything. In another reality, the two of you were old pals, discussing mundane things like your children and maybe the weather. Or that’s what you figured regular people talked about. You hadn’t exactly met many of them. Silence reigned again, but it was strangely comfortable. It wasn’t often that you felt that way about the quiet. Then again, it usually meant you were alone. 

It crossed your mind, for a moment, to thank him again for this opportunity. Explain how it’s about a lot more than having a partner to hunt bounties with for you. You decided against it, however. 

You think he already knew.

* * *

The marketplace was bustling. 

You liked loud, energetic places. When you were traveling alone, your stops in towns like these were what kept you sane. It was the closest you could get to companionship. 

The baby seemed to like it as well, evidenced by the way he leaned at the edge of his cradle. You laughed easily. “C’mon, baby,” you cooed, plucking him out of the carrier and holding him on your hip. “You wanna see?” 

The Mandalorian followed silently behind you, carving a path through the crowd with his presence alone. There was a clear temptation in the patrons to watch the three of you, but the risk seemed to be deemed as not worth the reward. 

A table of knives caught your eye. “Ooh, here we go!” You stored over to it, smiling at the shopkeeper briefly before looking over their wares. 

The child in your arms babbled softly. 

“They’re pretty, huh? These,” you pointed to a few, “are good for hunting. Looks like they’d go through muscle pretty easily; see how thick they are?” You pointed to another grouping. “And _these_ are for throwing! You throwing anything yet, little monster?” You tickled his belly, causing him to giggle in delight. 

The Mandalorian spoke up from his place behind you. “He’s throwing too well, I’d say.” You turned at his words, noting his crossed arms. The gesture didn’t seem angry so much as amused. 

“Ah. Maybe wait to give him anything too sharp?” 

“Soon.” He agreed. 

You began walking away, side by side as you continued on your quest for rations and jet pack parts. “Will you teach him to fight?” You asked. “If he stays with you, I mean. I know you were looking for his people, but…” But you’d never seen anything like him in the galaxy, and you’d done a lot of traveling.

He gave a short nod. “It is The Way.” He reached over to brush a hand over the child’s head, earning an adorable noise from the baby. 

You hummed. “Right. I don’t know the finer details, obviously, but I’ve heard some about your culture.”

“All very offensive rumors, I’m sure.” He didn’t actually sound that offended, though it was hard to tell through the helmet. He was probably used to it. 

You hummed in agreement. “I learned to fight from my older brother,” you told him. “He’d ended up in all kinds of bad business growing up. I thought he was so _cool._ We’d spar in his friend’s gross basement.” The memory brought a fond smile to your face.

“Where is your brother now?”

You shrugged. “Who knows? Last time I saw him, he got roped into this smuggling business. I keep thinking one day I’ll run into him out here.” You thought for a moment. “Actually, I keep thinking one day I’m gonna get a puck with his name on it.” 

The Mandalorian was watching you. “What would you do if you did?” 

You laughed. “Track him down, obviously. I’d love to see him. And if they let me bring him in alive I’d probably do it. He’s sold me out before.” You weren’t bitter about it or anything. Everyone had their ‘way’, so to speak. This was your’s.

“Really?”

You nodded. “Oh sure. It’s just… one of those things.” You made a lazy gesture. “Back home, you kind of have to figure out how to fend for yourself. Family is a loose connection at best. It’s about _independence,_ you know? Learning to carve out your place or whatever.” 

He was quiet. You wondered about the Mandalorian culture again. Did he get that? Or was a concept like that unimaginable for him. Mando often worked alone, you knew, but that didn’t really reveal anything about his people’s society outside of the context of fighting. “How has that worked out for you?” He asked.

“Ha!” You shook your head with a grin. “If you asked me a week ago, I’d have said really badly. But… I don’t know. _This_ is nice.” You made a vague gesture to your small party. “It’s pretty new but there’s… potential. Don’t you think?” You could kind of see why the whole family thing was so appealing to people. Not that you were one. You were strangers, still. But you could get the gist.

He did that thing again, where he’d stare at you with the slightest head tilt. He took your questions pretty seriously, you noticed. Which was kind of hilarious because you rarely asked anything too important. 

He didn’t get the chance to answer before a sweet smell captured your attention. “Uh oh. I smell a pastry cart.” You looked at the Mandalorian again. “Can the booger have sweets?”

He shrugged, and it seemed like permission to you. 

You found the stall easily, as it was pretty busy. Your mouth was watering even before you laid eyes on the options. Your sweet tooth had always been bad, admittedly, but you generally weren’t well off enough to afford pastries that often, so it all balanced itself out in the end. 

Even now, you didn’t have a lot of credits, especially since Mando did in fact keep your entire last bounty. But you had your next job lined up and hey, life was short. If the past week had taught you anything, it was that you should enjoy whatever time you had left. 

The baby was as enthralled as you were, pleased by the brightly colored pastries and sweet scent. 

“What do you think?” You asked him. Your gaze settled on a sugar covered pastry. It looked like it had some kind of fruit purée inside. “That one looks good, doesn’t it?” 

He made a loud, enthusiastic noise, which you took as an affirmative. You grabbed the shopkeeper’s attention just as Mando came up behind you. The keep jumped when he turned. 

“A warrior?”

“Oh, wow, thank you!” You said, grinning. “Glad you noticed.” The joke fell flat, as the shopkeeper looked too nervous to enjoy some quality comedy. You cleared your throat awkwardly. 

“Listen, you’re scaring the people around my shop,” He addressed Mando, looking right past you. “Why don’t you just let the little girl take care of this?” His voice was low, sharp.

“Hey!” You said, shifting the baby to your outside hip so you could lean in. “He’s not bothering anybody. And I kill people too, for the record. And I’m not a _little girl.”_ As a matter-of-fact, you were solidly in your mid-twenties and honestly older than you’d ever expected you’d get. 

“Stop.” Mando’s voice cut into what would’ve probably been a pretty decent tirade. He plucked the baby from your hands. “We’re leaving.” He began to walk away, not waiting for you and not looking back. You watched him go, still seething.

“You heard him. Get out of here.” The shopkeeper's haughty tone sounded over your shoulder. 

“Actually”, you began, turning and pressing your blaster to his forehead, “I’m going to take that pastry.” You gave him a charming smile and thumbed the safety on your weapon. “ _Please_.” 

* * *

You didn’t catch up with Mando and the kid until after they’d already gotten the rest of the supplies. You didn’t really think they’d be that hard to find, even in such a large crowd, but Mando clearly wanted a moment away from you, so you were fine with wandering a little as you looked. 

Finally, you saw the light from one of the three suns the planet had glint off of Mando’s helmet. You sped up a little to catch up. When the kid noticed your approach, he began squirming in Mando’s arms, clearly excited. It caused a strange pang in your chest. No one had ever been excited to see you before. 

“Booger!” You called, grinning back at the baby. “Lookie, lookie.” You showed him the carefully wrapped pastry, which he immediately tried to grab at. You pulled it away. “Wait ‘til we’re on the ship, little guy. We’re gonna share.” You noticed he was holding something in one tiny fist. “What do you have there?” 

He immediately held it out. “Bah!” It was a photon blaster round, the sight of which made you laugh. 

“What a nice toy you got for your kid,” you teased, nudging Mando’s shoulder. 

“He sold you something.” He said, glancing down at your pastry. 

You laughed. “No. I held a gun to his head and took it.” 

Mando looked over at you again, surely taking in your wild grin with no little amount of derision. “I could’ve done that.” 

“Mmm,” you hummed, “I’m not so sure. I mean, I’m not very scary looking. They all probably thought I was on my cycle or something and had a bad craving.” You rolled your eyes. “No one ever believes the ‘bounty hunter who has killed people’ thing. Probably because I’m just too darn cute.” 

Mando made that sound again, the one you thought might be a snort. “Probably because of how you talk.” 

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” You tried to look more offended, but it was unlikely he’d say anything you haven’t heard before. He began walking again, and you followed right beside him.

“You say whatever you’re thinking. Whether you should or not.” 

That was actually a great deal nicer than what you expected him to say. “Yeah, I guess. But I don’t say _everything_ I’m thinking. Just the fun stuff.” He had his armor, you had a plucky exterior. Everyone needed something to protect their soft, vulnerable insides. 

The softest of sounds was picked up by his helmet. “Fun…”

You shrugged. “Yeah.” You grinned up at him. “Aren’t you having fun?” 

He looked ahead again. “No.” 

You grinned. You could hear the smile in his voice. 

* * *

“How often, would you say, do you end up like this?” You asked, huddled next to Mando behind your meager cover. You flinched hard when you heard more rounds bury themselves on the other side of the wall. 

He rose and turned, firing a few shots at your attackers. Once he was crouched next to you again, he answered. “Aren’t you having fun?” He threw your previous words right back at you. 

“Oh ha, ha.” You pulled a pulse bomb off of your belt and pulled activated it, rising to toss it into the largest collection of assailants. “We should run.” The ground rumbled as the bomb went off. 

You both sprinted away from your spot, rushing into the blown out husk of what might’ve been a storefront at some point. “You see the quarry?” You whispered, knowing his helmet had several different settings. 

“Yeah.” 

“You gonna go get him?”

“I need a distraction.”

“Really? Is that what you need?” Your whisper was harsh. He was wearing _armor,_ for fucks sake. What did he need you for?

He looked over at you finally. “Yes.” 

You groaned quietly. “Fine. Can’t say I never did anything for you.”

“I’m paying you.” 

You waved a hand, dismissing him. “Details.” Without further ado, you crept towards the doorway closest to the approaching bodyguards. A small peek out of the broken window showed that they were close. 

You checked your blaster quickly to see how many shots you had left before you’d have to reload. Four. There were at least eight guys out there. How long, exactly, did Mando need this distraction to be? 

You pulled your knife from your belt with a sigh. If you lost it covering for him, you’d be _pissed._

Without any further hesitation, you rose from your hiding place and threw the knife at the nearest attacker. It buried itself in his shoulder, and as soon as he bent over in pain, you shot the guard right behind him. You ducked just as they began shooting in your direction. The sound of their yelling and footsteps were approaching fast. 

You crouched as you ran to a new spot, pressing yourself against the wall right next to the only door. As soon as it burst open, you fired your gun into the temple of the first man. There was loud cursing by the men behind him. 

You couldn’t really stay there after you’d played your hand, so you moved to run deeper into the building when the doorframe and some of the wall blasted inwards, knocking you forward. All of the air was forced out of you when you hit the ground. Someone must’ve had something big and nasty.

By the time you managed to roll over and look, you were staring down the oversized barrel of a pulse cannon. 

_Bad! Really bad!_

You moved to raise your weapon when Mando dropped out of the sky, right behind the guards who had entered to finish you off. With a blaster in each hand, he took down three of your assailants, including the one carrying the cannon. 

The last two men swiveled, trying to figure out which of you to shoot at first, and you fired at one just as Mando downed the other. 

“The quarry?” You forced out, cringing as you stood. Your back was going to be a grim sight, you knew it.

“Cuffed. Outside. They left him to finish you off.” 

“Stupid,” you mumbled, looking down at the discarded pulse cannon and trying to decide if it was worth hauling back to the ship, “what, they forget about you?” 

“No. They didn’t expect _you_ to attack from the front.” 

You hefted the weapon up onto your shoulder, trying to ignore the bruises on your back screaming at you. “Yeah, me either."

“Worked, didn’t it?” The bastard sounded _amused._

“I’m going to use this on _you_.” You said, shoving past him to exit the building. 

The quarry was just on the other side, looking terrified at the sight of you with one of his bodyguard’s weapons. “They really need this guy warm?” You asked when you heard Mando’s boots behind you. You aimed the weapon at him anyway, eliciting a whimper of fear. 

Mando gently tilted the cannon away. “Yes.” You turned to look at him, so he continued. “For now.” 

You hummed at that, both of you looking back down at him. “Aren’t you lucky?” 

He fainted. 

You blinked at his prone form. “Welp. I’ll carry this!” You gestured with the cannon and started walking in the direction you parked the ship. You could hear Mando’s staticky sigh behind you. 

You both walked back in silence. 

* * *

Mando’s shower wasn’t much better than the one you had on your ship. Of course, after a rough mission, just about anything that got you clean was welcome. 

Mando must’ve managed to calm the baby enough for him to sleep. 

He’d been fussy once you both had returned, and Mando had waved you off with the bounty. “I’ve got him.” You’d dragged the quarry behind you, entering the carbonite chamber just as Mando picked up the child and tucked him safely in his arms. 

You still peeked in the tiny, tiny bunk, smiling slightly at his small form swaddled and tucked into his little hammock. You were ready for sleep, but instead, you grabbed a ration bar from their designated crate and held it between your teeth as you climbed the ladder to the cockpit. 

You shuffled inside, wet hair wrapped in a clean spare rag. You grabbed the bar out of your mouth to speak. 

“Alright, all yours!” You said, stepping beside Mando and leaning against the co-pilot seat. 

He looked over at you for a moment, then pointedly turned back to the view screen. You rolled your eyes. 

“Mando. You _have_ to shower. It’s not a request.”

He looked over again and you rolled your eyes at him. 

“You smell. Go shower. I’ve had your back both of these past missions and I’ve helped you take care of your kid. You don’t have to trust me but you have to take care of yourself.” You didn’t actually think he had an issue with you flying the ship, but you gave him the scapegoat anyway. 

You knew how embarrassing it was when others saw how bad you were at attending to your basic needs. It was just easy to forget when you were always alone. 

He was still for another moment or so before turning his chair and standing. You shuffled past him to plop yourself into it, tucking your legs up against you and getting comfortable. 

“You should eat too,” you said, not looking over, “I left you the rest of the pastry. It was really good, I think you’ll like it.” 

You kept your eyes forward, waiting with bated breath until his heavy boots clomped away. You released your breath with a sigh, settling in and opening the ration bar. 

Time was tricky in warp. Well, time was tricky in a ship in general, but _particularly_ in warp. So you weren’t sure how long it was until he returned, but soon enough Mando returned to the cockpit. He sat next to you in the co-pilot seat, staring out over the streaking light of stars passing you at light speed. 

You watched him, though. Watched the reflection of stars on his helmet. You weren’t expecting him to speak, so when he did, you startled a little. 

“You did good today.” 

You smiled. “Thanks. You too.” 

“You need training.” Now that was more like Mando. You turned to look out the view screen. 

“Mmm. Probably.” 

“I could do it. If that was something you wanted?” 

You looked over again and saw that he’d turned to look at you too. “Really?” That was… The Mandalore were the best of the best. You didn’t know how long his offer to you would last, but if he trained you, you might just stand a chance once this was all over. 

He nodded once. 

“ _Yes,_ Mando.” You were embarrassed to feel your eyes begin to burn with tears. You blinked quickly, hoping to dispel them. 

He nodded again. “We’ll have some time before our next quarry is in the right place.”

You let your head fall back against the headrest. “Thank you,” you whispered. It wasn’t really enough to cover what he’d done for you. Sparing you. Giving you a home. _Paying you,_ even. “There has to be… something I can do for you.” You reached over to place a hand on his upper thigh. You didn’t have much to offer, really. But you could fight and you could fuck, and you’d already helped him fight. 

He hummed. “You can do what you’ve been doing: helping me with the bounties and taking care of the kid.” He grabbed your hand and moved it to rest on your knee. 

Your hand flexed where it sat. “Sorry,” you mumbled. You didn’t mean to offend him. You just thought… well, since he had literally fingered you previously…

He was quiet. His usual, whenever he didn’t have anything to say to you. You leaned forward to rest your chin on your knees, embarrassed. 

“The pastry was good.” 

You tilted your head to look over at him, not raising it from where it rested. “Yeah?” The smallest of grins broke out on your face. 

“Yeah.” 

A pastry wasn’t worth a life debt, it wasn’t an equal trade; but it felt like a decent enough starting point. You could do baby steps. With your new strategy planted firmly in your mind, you allowed yourself to relax for the first time since you’d joined him. You could make yourself mean something to someone, you knew you could. 

After all, your life depended on it.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay i finally actually wrote porn sorry for the wait on that lol. also I didn't mean to make this so fluffy whooooops! also this chapter is a fucking MONSTER I don't know how it got so long?!?!? I finally decided to cut a scene and do it later once I hit 15 pages.

The planet of Yas was startlingly green. 

Since your bounties were generally very low-level criminal types, you spent a great deal of your time tracking them to desert planets or dense cities. The field Mando landed his ship in was a welcomed change of scenery. 

The baby was prancing through the grass, plucking flowers from the ground occasionally and holding them up to you and Mando. You would take a moment to gush over it while Mando offered him a thumbs up, both of which made him smile and continue on his merry way. 

After a brief moment of enjoying the lovely field of flowers, you turned to Mando. “Alright. Are we doing this?” 

He gave a curt nod. “Is all of your hand-to-hand training from when you were young?” He began fiddling with something at his wrist as he spoke. 

“Training might be giving it too much credit, but yeah, that’s when I learned to fight.” You shrugged. “The rest of it I picked up as I went along. I try to use guns when I can though.” Your eyes widened when Mando’s vambrace fell to the ground, followed quickly by his shoulder armor. He didn’t look up as he started to take off the other. “You’re taking off your armor?”

His helmet rose to stare you down. “Did you _want_ to break your wrist?” Sarcasm didn’t really translate through the modulator well, but Mando had a certain talent for sass anyway. 

“Well, no.” You decided to let it slide, if only because you wanted him to answer your real question. “I thought you couldn’t do that in front of other people or something?” 

“The helmet is different than the armor. And the armor is different than the skin.” He said it dismissively, as though reciting something he’d heard a thousand times. He was taking the pieces off his thighs, now. 

You gave slow nod. “Would you ever tell me about it? Sometime?” You’d traveled enough to take different cultural practices in stride, so it wasn’t like you wanted an explanation for his behavior, really. It was more that you didn’t grow up with any kind of culture and it fascinated you. 

He looked over and tilted his head at you before he finished pulling off the armor over his chest. “If you want.” He took a couple steps towards you, fully divested of his armor. “Okay. Let’s see what you got.” 

You blinked at him, suddenly nervous. “Uh, okay. But I’m telling you, it’s not impressive.” 

He hummed, then he was _moving,_ fist flying at you so quickly you barely managed to block the hit. You could feel that it was going to bruise already. He used the momentum from your block to spin you and he planted a boot right across your ass before kicking his leg out and sending you stumbling forwards a couple feet. 

You knew he’d continue on the offensive until you stopped him, so you kept yourself low, pretending like you were still trying to get your bearings. As soon as he was close enough, you spun, digging an elbow hard into the side of his stomach. You grinned at his surprised grunt. He was still folded over a little when you rose back to your full hight and swung at him. 

You traded blows and blocks for a little while, taking and losing the upper hand. Mando definitely had it over you more often than not, but you weren’t doing too badly. Or at least you thought you weren’t until he twisted your arm behind you, shoving your face downwards with a hand on the back of your neck. 

“Ow, FUCK, Mando! You win!” 

He let you go, and you gave yourself permission to fall heavily onto the grass. Your chest was heaving as you struggled a little to catch your breath, and your muscles ached; you should’ve stretched. He simply stared down at you. 

“Not bad.” 

You breathed out a laugh. “Thanks.” 

“We still have a lot of work to do.” He held out a hand, which you took. He helped you stand and you indulged in a loud groan as you rose. 

“Let’s get to it then, huh?” You dropped into a fighting stance again, and Mando adjusted one of your feet with a boot. 

“You’ve got good instincts,” he said, “but you’re sloppy.” 

And with that, the lesson began.

* * *

It had been _hours_ since you started. 

Mando worked relentlessly on your form until he deemed you ready to spar with him again, and you’d been going several rounds already. 

Mando went back onto the offensive, but you were _done._ You blocked a couple hits, just a hair too slow and _very_ painfully, before turning tail and running down the hill. 

You kind of expected it to just be a joke, but you could hear Mando chasing you. He was fast, especially without his armor weighing him down, but you were fast too. 

A laugh bubbled out of you unexpectedly. You both dashed past the child, who threw up his little arms and screamed some baby nonsense with a massive grin on his face. It made you laugh again. 

It was definitely a bad call to get too distracted, however, because it wasn’t much longer before Mando was grabbing you from behind, arm wrapping across your waist in an iron grip. You made a sound of surprise as he spun you both to the ground, the momentum causing you both to roll a couple of feet before stopping. 

You were shaking with laughter. “Holy shit, Mando.” 

His helmet angled towards you, though he otherwise didn’t move from where he was sprawled out on the grass. “Caught you.” 

“Yeah, no kidding.” You were staring at him now, watching him lay there, watching his chest rise and fall quickly as he caught his breath. It was almost unconscious, the way you reached out to rest a hand on his broad chest. 

He stiffened at the touch, but relaxed after another moment. “What are you doing?” 

You sat up, giving yourself better leverage as your other hand joined the first. You hands eased down his chest to his stomach, quietly cataloguing every bump and ridge and angle. “I don’t know. Tell me when you want me to stop,” you answered. As soon as you reached his belt, you changed direction, sliding your hands down to his sides and then back up again. Once your hands were on his shoulders, you brushed them down his arms until you were holding his gloved hands loosely in yours. You sat there like that for a few quiet moments. 

“Does the armor bother you that much?” 

“No. It doesn’t bother me at all.” You cocked your head at him. “Does _this_ bother you?” 

He shook his head. “No. I just don’t understand it.” 

“Being touched?” You shrugged. “There’s not really anything to it, unless you want there to be. It’s up to you if you want to just… _feel_ it or reciprocate it.” You knew he was comfortable enough with giving touch, to some certain extent that you didn’t know just yet, but receiving it was likely a different story. 

“Do you get anything out of it?” The questions he asked were achingly genuine. 

“Sure. I find it comforting. Like you’re more... real.” 

“Didn’t feel real enough when I was fighting you?” 

You snorted. “Oh sure. But that’s different.” You dropped his hands. They twitched a little when they settled on the ground, and you thought maybe he did like what you were doing. “Thanks. For letting me do that.” 

He gave you a short nod. “We should prepare.” You’d already planned on making your move right at dawn the next morning. 

You stood, holding a hand out to him. “Yeah. Probably.” 

He gripped your hand, letting you pull him to his feet.

* * *

The mission was a success, _technically._

But both of you had gotten banged up pretty badly after some bad intel led you into a trap. You’d managed to turn it around, but it hadn’t been easy. 

You had hobbled into the ship, letting him freeze the bounty while you retrieved the first aid kit from the refresher. The kid had been set by the door, still in Mando’s bag. He seemed a little shaken. 

“Oh, little one,” you mumbled, setting the kit on the ground and crouching so he could climb into your arms. Once he was secure against your side, you grabbed the kit again and rose. 

You eased yourself onto a crate, setting the child on your lap and cracking open the kit. Mando sat next to you heavily a moment later. “You want first?” You asked, eyeing the damp patch on the side of his thigh. 

“I’ll do mine later. Let me see your back.” 

You stared him down for a moment before deciding you were too woozy from pain and blood loss to argue. You turned, pulling your ruined shirt over your head and tossing it onto the floor. The child made a soft noise of curiosity and you began running a gentle hand down his little bald head. 

“I can’t help you tend to an injury?” You asked, shivering at the cold of a disinfectant wipe brushing over the blaster wound. It hadn’t been a direct hit, thank the maker, but it had burned your skin pretty badly. 

“I don’t need help.” 

“I know,” you said, shrugging, “I’m offering it anyway.” You hissed at the feeling of bacta gel being applied. Mando’s hands were bare, and the touch felt sacred. The only other time you’d gotten to feel his skin was… well. But even then he’d had you blindfolded. At this moment, he just trusted you not to look. 

“I appreciate it,” he said finally. It still sounded like a ‘no’. 

“You never told me, you know? The difference between armor and skin.” 

He continued working silently, maybe trying to determine how to explain it to someone who would never really _get_ it. “It is an honor to take the creed of the Mandalore. When outsiders see that you are worthy of the armor, the _beskar’gam_ , it means something. But underneath it, we are flesh just like anyone else.” 

You nodded, remaining quiet for him to continue. 

“Flesh is vulnerability. Removing the armor in front of someone implies trust. It means you believe the other person accepts the responsibility of your flesh.” 

Your head was _spinning_. He hadn’t really made it sound like he was saying anything important, though that might be the fault of the modulator. “You trust me?” Your voice was whisper quiet.

“I don’t think you’re a threat.” 

It was a strangely disappointing answer. It deflated you a bit, no matter how much you knew you should have expected it. 

You swallowed thickly. “Oh.” 

He paused in his task, maybe catching your mood change. Though he likely wouldn’t know what to do with the info. “I don’t… There are threats. And there are non-threats.” 

“I get that.” You mumbled, though the truth was that you _did_ trust Mando. It was maybe premature but you couldn’t help it. He’d spared your life. He’d kept his word. He kept helping and giving and you knew that he had your back.“I mean, I didn’t really have anyone _to_ trust. Even if I wanted to.” The ‘ _until you’_ was implied. You didn’t know if he’d had enough human interaction to know that. You certainly weren’t going to say it. 

He finished off with a bandage, though it wasn’t really necessary with the bacta. There was the soft rustle of him replacing his gloves. He sat back, and you turned slightly to look at him again. The child cooed softly, and a glance down revealed he was blinking slowly with incoming sleep. 

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to let me help?” You glanced back down at the wound, and though his dark underclothing made it hard to see, you knew there was shrapnel in there. He didn’t immediately dismiss you this time, which made you wonder if he felt bad about hurting your feelings. 

Then he leaned back heavily against the hull of the ship, and you realized he was probably just barely clinging to consciousness. “You know what,” you began, settling the child in his arms before digging through the kit for the forceps you’d seen earlier, “No more convincing, I’m going to do it. You can shoot me later if you want.” 

You found them, and a pair of scissors. You began cutting his pants around the injury, trying to reveal as little of his skin as possible. One of his hands batted at yours clumsily, and you grabbed it, squeezing it gently before setting it on his stomach. “I know. I’m sorry. You can’t do this yourself.” You looked again at the torn skin. At least the shrapnel seemed to be in pretty large pieces. “Damn. I’m surprised you haven’t passed out yet.” 

Then you began the slow, methodical work of cleaning and disinfecting. “Can you tell me more? Tell me about the helmet. You said it was different than the armor.” Without being able to see his face, you were going to need some metric to determine how he was doing. 

“The Mandalore… Are not individuals.” He was mumbling, slurring his words. You could tell by the way the modulator struggled to capture them.

“Mmhm.” You were fully concentrating on your task, gently wiping away the blood that would begin to drip every time you removed a piece. He wasn’t bleeding too badly right then, but you made a mental note to keep your eye on how many wipes you were using. Blood loss could sneak up on you. 

“The helmet… makes us the same… even if we are… different.” There was a soft clank as his head fell back against the bulkhead. 

Your gaze snapped up at the noise. “Hey. Mando. Did you pass out?” He shook his head negative, but he didn’t lift it again, so you figured it was a near thing. “Okay. I’m almost done.” 

“A shield.” 

“Hmm?” The last few pieces were deep, and you needed all your concentration to avoid exasperating the issue. 

“For anyone who needs it.” 

You were responding without really processing the words. “Mm-hm. You’re our big, shiny, shield.” Finally, _finally_ you were ready to spray the bacta. “It’s gonna be cold.” You warned. 

He made a soft, incoherent sound. Your lips twitched. It was an inappropriate time to laugh, but you’d hadn’t yet caught him off guard like that. You sprayed the bacta, causing him to twitch slightly. “I know,” you soothed, rubbing his clothed hip with your thumb. You bandaged the wound as well, taking care of him like he’d taken care of you. “Alright Mando. Let’s get you to bed so you can pass out.” 

You took care of the baby first, taking his sleeping form from Mando’s weak grip. You went and tucked him into his hammock. Mando had managed to sit up again by the time you walked back over to him. 

You tugged his arm over your shoulder, grunting with the effort of helping him stand. He went willingly enough, hindered only by exhaustion and pain. Your own injury twinged, but your longer exposure to the bacta made it bearable. You helped him limp to his tiny bunk, carefully helping him settle in without waking the sleeping child. 

He mumbled something you didn’t quite catch. 

“Hmm?” You crouched next to him, leaning in to hear. 

“You sleep first.” 

You chuckled quietly. “You’re half-dead, Mando. I can get us up and into warp.” Your former ship was _also_ an old piece of shit (not that you’d tell him your opinion on his precious Razor Crest) and you were familiar enough with how classic design pilot consoles worked to do it. 

His head lolled to the side a moment later. You tossed one of his threadbare blankets over his prone form and made your way to the cockpit. 

* * *

“Alright, so,” you were walking and talking, occasionally turning to look over your shoulder at your silent companion, “this guy, he’s a _massive_ prick. Like a real piece of fucking work. But he’s going to make our job much easier.” You were referring, of course, to Val Thamne, a contact you met on Canto Bight. He was a horrible person, one who only did anything for his own gain, but he owed you one and this was as good a reason as any to cash in. 

Your next bounty was also wealthy, an Arkanian who had stolen blueprints from the wrong guy. Or something to that tune. It also happened that this particular Arkanian had some weird fetish for sleeping with beings of “lesser races”, which included pretty much everyone to his species. 

All and all, you were the perfect bait. If you could get him alone, you’d be able to kill him easy-peasy. The bounty wanted him cold, so cold he would be. 

The problem wasn’t the mission, or the plan. The problem was that Mando was vehemently against it from the moment you brought it up. You didn’t know if it was a case of misplaced chivalry or something, but despite agreeing it was a good plan, he had been in a downright pissy mood since the decision was made. 

His vocal responses had dropped to somewhere around zero, which meant you’d been basically talking to yourself for a couple of days. It was annoying, especially since you knew he wasn’t going to just _tell_ you what the problem was. 

The hotel Val was staying at was predictably lavish, found near the innermost ring of Cruandath. The planet wasn’t really that, it was a small moon, attached to the orbit of Chelin. It had been colonized after all the most wealthy people on Chelin decided they no longer wanted to live among the poor, and funded their own pilgrimage. 

Even on the planet, the people were separated by relative wealth. Not that there was anything resembling a slum there, but there was the rich and the _ultra-rich_. So everyone outside of the inner city worked relentlessly to be able to afford to move there. It was the perfect place for a smarmy bastard like Val. 

The baby cooed at you from his place in Mando’s pouch. You turned to smile at him. “I know! Isn’t that great? Our mission is going to go so much smoother than the last one. That’s good because your papa’s leg still hurts, even though he tries to pretend it doesn’t.” 

You didn’t even look up to pretend to gauge Mando’s reaction. You were probably one or two more annoying quips from him straight up punching you in the jaw. Finally you reached the room, 477. You took a steadying breath before knocking. 

There was a long moment of pause where you worried he had lied about meeting you, then the door opened to reveal one Val Thamne. He looked gorgeous as ever, white curly hair reflecting the light and skin smooth as silk. He was dressed like he was meeting someone much more important than you, wearing what you figured was the latest in high-fashion. It had too many belts for your taste, but your own clothes were old and faded and clearly re-stitched several times over, so who were you to judge?

He gave you a slow once over. “Maker. I think you’re wearing the same thing you were last time I saw you.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Only you would keep up with that kind of stuff.” You glanced over his own bright white outfit. “What poor stormtrooper did you steal this off of?” 

He snorted, moving and gesturing you inside. “Oh please. They _wish_ they were able to get their armor this white.” He finally looked behind you to Mando. “Well _hello,_ shoulders.”

You led the way into the room. “Down, boy. He’s in a bad mood.” You turned to face them, crossing your arms over your chest. “And his kid is here. Have some decency.” 

Val gave a sharp laugh. “I haven’t had any decency in _years,_ darling.” He closed the door after you were all inside and walked over to sit on the large bed, crossing his legs. “Alright then, let’s get down to it.” 

The baby made a loud noise, the one that meant he wanted to explore. Mando plucked him from the bag and set him on the ground. 

“You destroy anything you want, baby,” you called as he wobbled around, “Val’s buying.” He giggled and ran as fast as his little legs would let him into the next room. 

“Happy to see you’re just as unpleasant as ever,” Val quipped, watching him go before looking back at you. 

“Likewise.” 

He stared at you for another moment, eyes narrowed. “So, I’ve got your invite and something for you to wear. It’s going to be up to you to do the rest. He thinks he’s into scummy women, but it’s simply not true. If he saw you now, he’d gag.” 

Mando’s fist clenched. 

“Yeah, yeah,” you waved him off, “I’m gross. We get it. I’ll get it done, I can lie with the best of them. But making me look less like shit is _your_ job. What’cha got?” 

He clapped his hands once. “I’m actually _very_ excited about this,” he rose, walking over to the closet, “I’ve long suspected you’ve got a gorgeous body under those rags.” 

He pulled something long, glittering, and _red_ out. You hadn’t really grown up with beautiful things, so to have something like this in front of you, knowing you’d get to wear it… 

“Wow.” You walked over, taking it from him and looking closer at the fine beading. 

“Well, don’t keep us waiting.” 

You swallowed hard and laid the dress on the bed before going for your belt. 

Val cleared his throat. “Seriously?”

You rolled your eyes. “Well, you’re not interested and Mando has seen me naked, so.” You continued undressing. 

Val perked up at that. “Oh?” He looked over at Mando, who was still as a statue. “Is that the reason for your mood? Mad you have to share your little piece of ass?”

He didn’t respond. 

“Nah, we’re not like that,” you corrected as you began to shimmy into the dress, “It’s never fun to place your bounty in someone else’s hands.” 

Val hummed. “Can he talk?” 

You laughed. “He’s not talking because he hates you.” You finished pulling the last strap over your shoulder. “He’s smarter than me, in that way.” You didn’t think he’d like that you were answering for him, but Val liked verbal confrontation and would often stop at nothing to instigate it. The last thing you needed was him pissing Mando off too much. What Val didn’t know was he would never get Mando to argue back. If he got irritated enough, he’d just shoot him and figure out a new plan. 

You walked over to the mirror to take a look, and found yourself stunned. “Wow. This dress is beautiful.” 

Val walked over as well, arms crossed as he looked you up and down. “And you are wearing it well. I knew you had potential.” 

You turned. The dress was fully backless, gathering just above the curve of your ass. “Uh oh.”

Val raised a brow. “Uh oh what?"

You turned so he had a better view of your back. “I’ve got scars. He’ll notice.” You had fucking _nasty_ scars, actually. There was no way you’d be able to explain them away. Even if you’d had some random accident, a real wealthy person could afford bacta that would leave you blemishless.

Val hummed again before snapping his fingers. He walked into the bathroom for a moment. He emerged again with a glass container. “This makeup,” he handed you the jar, “will blend to your skin perfectly. For one night, you’ll get to be the girl with no scars.” 

Val had been actively mean to you before, and this comment wasn’t _that._ It still hurt, in some weird, unexplainable way. You’d never thought of yourself as _the girl with scars_ before. 

“That, uh,” you swallowed, “that should work, then.” You looked in the mirror again before looking over at Mando. His helmet was pointed towards you, so you offered him an admittedly weak smile. 

There was a crash from the next room over, causing your smile to grow a little more genuine as you glanced back at Val. 

“That sounded expensive.”

Val rolled his eyes. 

* * *

You’d ended up bullying Val to take care of the child for the next couple of nights. For all that you didn’t like him much, you did trust him to hold up his end of a deal. You and Mando had spent the evening scouting the area around the lounge you’d be meeting the Arkanian the next night. Well, it was mostly you scouting the area. Mando spent his time searching for the perch where he would be watching everything go down through the scope of his rifle. 

Once you made it back to your shared room (also courtesy of Val), you got work on your cover. 

“How about this?” You tried your walk again. It felt better that time. You perched yourself delicately on Mando’s thigh, wrapping an arm around his shoulder, before leaning in close and speaking lowly. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you _all night._ ” 

Mando’s helmet was facing you, and it’s default expression still managed to look unimpressed. “I think it’s fine.” 

You sighed heavily. “Mando. Seriously. If we want to get this asshole, I have to be better than ‘fine’. The dress can’t do all the work.” 

“I don’t think he has the standards you think he does.”

“Ugh, it’s not about his _standards._ It’s about blending in. They’ll notice me right away if I don’t act like they do.” You’d never lived in any kind of upper crust society, and you’d only had a couple of days of observation to try and figure out the social mores you needed to know. 

“How would _I_ know if you were doing anything wrong?” His arm was around your waist, gloved hand holding your hip loosely. 

“Well… you wouldn’t, I guess. But that’s why I need to be ultra seductive. To cover any missteps.” You straightened your posture again, pushing your chest out. “You feeling seduced?” 

He hummed. “Not particularly.” He squeezed your hip. 

You grinned. “You’re lying. How could you not be into _this?”_ You gestured to yourself: in your ratty ass shirt and slightly too baggy pants. 

“You’re wearing an impressive amount of spit-up.” He offered. 

You sighed over-dramatically, looking down at the dried remains of the baby’s last brush with air-sickness. “You have to imagine it’s not there. Obviously.” You shuffled to sit more fully on his thigh brace. “You sure? Nothing about this does it for you?” 

“Everything about this does it for me.” 

The answer was so blunt and honest, it almost sent you straight to the floor. You managed to stay where you were, but you were gaping. “I… really?” 

He nodded. 

“Then what…? What are we doing?” You rose, pulling your shirt off hastily. Your pants were down a moment later. 

Mando’s gaze slid slowly down your body then back up. “What _are_ we doing?” 

You rolled your eyes, climbing onto his lap with your legs bracketing his hips. “We’re going to have sex, obviously. That’s literally all I’ve wanted to do since we met.” Actually, when you first met, you wanted him to be the one to kill you. But that wasn’t as fun in terms of sexy banter. Then you blinked at him. “Wait. You _do_ want this, right?” 

He grabbed your hips tight, squeezing. “Since the first time.” 

You grinned. “Good. Wasn't so sure since you rejected me last time.” You squirmed in his lap, already able to feel him getting hard. 

He squeezed you again. “I don’t want you to offer yourself as payment.” His voice was soft, the tone giving you pause. 

Your smile softened a little at that and you leaned forward to tap your forehead against his. “I’m offering myself as someone who wants you to fuck them very badly.” You yelped when he stood suddenly, hands cupped under your ass to carry you. “Mando! I can _walk!_ ” You wrapped your arms and legs around him, even though he probably didn’t need the help. Your soft skin pressed hard against the rigid coldness of his armor. 

He carried you the two steps over to the side of the room that held the two beds. He approached the closest one, grip switching from your butt to your sides and tossed you onto the bed. You made an indignant noise as you bounced. “Ow!”

“That didn’t hurt,” he said, grabbing your wrists in his hands. His grip was gentle but firm as he pulled them up over your head and switched his grip so he was holding both with one hand. You relaxed immediately, pulling your knees up and planting your feet on the bed. 

You bumped his side with your knee. “Look in my bag, I think I have something in there to put over my eyes.” 

He straightened a little more, and you knew you’d said the wrong thing. You sat up fully to listen to him. 

“We’re not safe here. I can’t take the armor off.” 

You frowned. He had a point. “Can I have your hands?” You reached up to grab his helmet and pull it towards you. You pressed your lips to the space where you thought his might be. “And your lips?” 

He tilted his forehead down to meet yours. “Hands are fine. I can’t take off the helmet.” 

Well, who were you to push his boundaries? “Okay. That’s okay.” You pulled away when you got an idea. “Wait. What if we were on the ship?” 

“You were excited about the beds.” 

You shook your head. “Not _that_ excited.” You kissed his helmet again before planting your hands on his chest and shoving him away. You practically danced to your discarded clothes. “I’m way more excited for this.” You pulled on your pants and shirt, not bothering with tucking your shirt or putting on your belt. “Are you going to _fly_ us back to your ship just so we can fuck?” You shoved your feet into your boots. 

“Yes.” 

You laughed again before walking over and letting him pick you up in a bridal carry. You wrapped your arms tightly around his shoulders. “Let’s get out of here.” 

He opened the door and took two steps outside before activating his jetpack, sending you both hurtling towards the sky. 

* * *

The bunk was probably too small a space for two people.

You wondered if maybe you ought to insist on more from your life, things like real beds and sleeping with men whose face you could see. 

Yet the moment you were lying in the bunk wearing only a blindfold, you found yourself realizing that you didn’t actually care about those types of things at all. You could hear Mando shedding his armor, the pieces clanking against the floor. Finally, _finally_ you heard the pneumatic hiss of his helmet, and the quiet thunk of him setting it down. A moment later, his large, warm, still otherwise clothed body was crawling carefully over you. 

“Where’s your face?” You asked, making gabby hands. He settled his cheeks right between them, and you held his face for a moment of awe before pulling him down to bring your lips together. 

You could tell immediately that this wasn’t something he did often, or maybe ever. Not that he was a bad kisser, because he definitely wasn’t, but there was just a touch of desperation in the way he pulled at your lips with his own or licked into your mouth like he wanted to taste every inch of it. 

You were happy to oblige him. It had been a while since you’d gotten a good kiss in yourself, so you positively luxuriated in the contact. Going back to the ship had been a good idea. He scraped at your lower lip with his teeth, eliciting a moan from you that came from someplace _deep_. 

His hands smoothed over your form greedily, rough palms trailing sparks on your skin. You dropped your hands to tug playfully at his belt loops. “You going to keep these on?” You mumbled into his mouth. He froze again. 

“I don’t…” 

You shook your head. “Uh uh. You don’t have to explain yourself to me. I was just asking.” You ran your fingers through his curls instead. He might have been staring down at you, because there was a moment of stillness. 

Then his lips pressed whisper soft to your own, perfectly chaste. “I’m going to go down on you now.” He began trailing kisses down your stomach when you grabbed at his chin, holding it. 

“Wait,” you sat up on your other elbow, “can I ride your face?” 

He surged up to kiss you roughly. You moaned into his mouth again. He didn’t relent as he flipped both of you so he was laying on his back with you on top, straddling him. “C’mere,” his voice was raspy and his grip was strong as he pulled at your hips until your knees bracketed his head. 

You held yourself up for a moment and grabbed at an exposed pipe. You were going to need something to hold onto, you could already tell. “If I start suffocating you, just push me off.” 

“Not a bad death.” 

You flicked his forehead. “I’m serious.” Then you lowered yourself down and his hands came up to cup your ass and lower thigh. That made you feel a little better, knowing that he was also helping hold you up. 

Then he licked one long strip from back to front and your hips jerked _hard._ He squeezed you with both hands. “Relax.” 

This was a demand, loud and clear, so you let him pull you down further. As soon as his mouth - hot, wet, _soft_ \- was on you, all your worries faded. 

He ate pussy like a dream. Like he yearned for it. Like it was his favorite meal. His tongue swirled around your clit a few times before dragging over it, a pattern he repeated until your legs were trembling with the effort not to start bouncing on his face. The noises coming out of you were involuntary: long deep moans, punctuated by soft whines. 

He seemed to sense your hesitation, because a moment later he was pulling you in again and his tongue was inside of you. You _screamed_ at the sensation, your hips grinding down.

“There you are.” His soft, mumbled words sent shivers down your spine. 

You readjusted your grip on the pipe in front of you and started rolling your hips, helping him determine the exact speed you wanted. He was receptive to your desires, up until you found yourself so close that your rhythm was off. He grabbed you again and sucked hard on your clit and you were _gone_. 

“ _Mando, fuck!_ ” The words punched out of you, your head tilting back as your orgasm ripped through you. You could feel him licking you through it, making it last, making you clench harder around nothing. 

You hoped, distantly, that Mando was still holding onto you, because you probably couldn’t tell up from down just then. 

When you finally felt like you could rub a couple brain cells together again, you realized that he had shifted you lower to sit on his chest. You rose up enough to move yourself even lower, pressing your pelvis to his before leaning down to kiss him again. You licked at his lips and chin, tasting yourself. 

You pulled away for a moment. “It’s a damn shame you cover that mouth all the time.” 

He hummed, kissing you again. “Life is cruel that way.” 

“Will you fuck me now?” You peppered kisses along his jaw. 

“Mmm,” his voice reverberated through his chest, making you shiver, “mm-hm.” 

You sat up slightly. “Front or back?” 

He was still for a moment. “Your choice?” Phrased as a question. 

You pressed your grin to his jaw and kissed it again. “Okay.” You rolled until you were lying on your stomach. 

He rubbed his hands up and down your back, warm and relaxing. Every time he felt the raised skin of a scar, he would lean down to press a kiss to it. You smiled into the pillow. 

He leaned close to your face again, so you turned to give him an open mouth kiss that quickly grew heated, despite the bad angle. His hands slid down to your hips and he tugged them up. You arched your back easily, giving yourself more leverage by rising up onto your hands. You pushed your ass back against his pelvis, humming in delight when you felt his clothed bulge. 

“That can’t be comfortable,” you quipped. 

He pinched your ass, earning a yelp, then a laugh. 

“How’s the view, Mando?” you began conversationally. 

There was a pause, presumably from him taking a look. “Sounds like you already know.” He sounded distracted, and you shivered at the feeling of his fingers exploring between your folds.

“What does a girl need to do for some validation around here?” 

Your breath caught when his cock finally sank into you, surprising you in the best way possible. 

“ _Mando,_ ” you breathed out as he slowly pushed himself deeper, “ _maker._ You’re so…” you didn’t even know what word to use. Maybe the lack of visual skewed your perception, but it felt like he had the most perfect dick in the entire universe probably. 

“Were you going to finish?” His voice was strained, despite the cheeky question. He bottomed out a moment later, remaining still for a moment as both of you adjusted. 

“Mmm, I’m going to finish alright. Right on your perfect, gorgeous cock.” 

He chuckled at that, the sound rich and filling you up in a different way. “You’re being very generous, I think.” 

You pressed yourself back against him. “I’d like _you_ to start being generous and fucking _move._ ” 

He doesn’t, just yet. “I don’t… I’m not good at gentle.” 

You squirmed under him. “Then don’t be.” 

The permission was enough to spur him to action, and okay, he hadn’t been exaggerating. He gripped your hips tightly and pulled almost all the way out before _slamming_ back into you. The first one startled you a bit, and the force sent you forward a couple inches. You readjusted your hands and when he thrust again, you were able to push yourself back into him, and the result sent sparks up your spine. 

He seemed to like it too, your participation, because he sped up. His pace was steady and his strength was _brutal_ and it was everything you could’ve hoped for. 

“M-Mando,” your word stuttered when he fucked into you again. You lost your train of thought when he reached to grab at the back of your hair, not _pulling_ it but holding it tightly in his grip. The additional sensation caused the feeling curling inside you to intensify. 

“This is the quietest you’ve ever been.” 

Which was inaccurate, because you were in fact making several embarrassing noises as he slid into you, little gasps and groans and whines. But you couldn’t manage any words; what with the way he was scrambling your brains. 

“You want me to stroke your ego? I’m already - there, Mando, _yes -_ already on my h-hands and knees.” Your words trailed into little punched out moans as he hit _the_ spot with every thrust. You lowered your forehead to the bunk, stretching one arm in front of you to grab at the sheets and using the other to rub circles into your clit. 

He released your hair, his large palm pressing onto your upper back. He kept it closer to the side that hadn’t been recently injured, even though the bacta had already taken care of most of the pain. His hips stuttered, drawing a wail out of you. 

“So fucking _nice_ on your hands and knees.” His voice was hoarse, causing you to clench around him. “F-fuck. You’re too - Where can I?” 

“Inside. Safe.” 

Which was all he needed to know to fuck you with renewed vigor. You didn’t last much longer with the onslaught. Your orgasm came up hard, forcing a wounded noise from you. He fucked you through it, pressing in and out of you even as you clenched around him. He pushed into you deep, suddenly, and you recognized the warm feeling of him cumming inside you. 

A moment later he was pressing himself over your back, kissing the back of your neck lightly before rising and pulling out of you. You flopped down, laying fully on your front and turning your head to the side. “Fucking _nice._ ” You rolled onto your side and held up a hand. “That was great.” 

He returned the high-five. “It was.” There was a smile in his voice, much clearer without the helmet. There was shuffling as he got up. 

“Wait? Not gonna cuddle with me?” 

He huffed out a laugh. “I’m turning off the lights.” 

“Lemme use the ‘fresher first.” You didn’t take the blindfold off yet, but you did hold out a hand. Mando grabbed it and led you the short distance to the refresher. 

You slid the door shut behind you and pulled the blindfold off of your face. A glance into the tiny mirror revealed exactly what you expected: you looked completely fucked out. Your body was flushed and your hair was a _mess_ and you were vaguely sticky and you haven’t felt so loose in a while. 

You used the toilet and cleaned yourself up a bit before cutting the lights inside and standing in front of the door. “Mando? Is it safe?”

The door opened and his warm hands were on your face as he pulled you in for a gentle kiss. You wrapped your arms around his neck as you brushed your lips against his. 

“Mmm,” you hummed happily into his mouth, “let’s go to bed.” 

You let him lead the way, knowing he would have a better sense of the direction in the pitch blackness than you. It took some adjusting to get you both situated in the bunk. The close walls were a little claustrophobic now that you weren’t in a haze of lust, but Mando’s arms were around you and you could feel his warm chest at your back so you found it didn’t bother you much at all. 

Who needed a nice room with a mattress anyway?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You got it; why he was keeping you around currently. Because you weren’t bad in a fight. Because you’d fuck him or blow him relatively often with no expectations. Because he could always pawn the baby off on you if he needed a break from parenting. Maybe you were even good for a laugh or two. But at the end of the day, he didn’t need you. No one did. Which was a damn shame because you so desperately needed someone that you’d risk your life for a mockery of a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello friends! I know it's been a while, which is why I come in peace with a massive chapter featuring not one but TWO raunchy scenes, yay! Also I realized while I was editing that there was a severe lack of baby cuteness in this one, so I intend to remedy that soon. 
> 
> And in case you missed it, I am now on tumblr at beskar-hearts, so feel free to interact there! 
> 
> I've been considering opening up scene requests? I like to write little random snippits as warmups or to stave away writers block, and I have been debating sharing them in some capacity. If that's something you'd be interested in, just let me know through the comments here or message me on tumblr. Until next time friends!

You were in way over your head. 

Well. You were doing a passable job at blending in, but the fact you were alone, without Mando there, made you nervous. If it _did_ go sideways, he wouldn’t be able to help much from his perch. At least he was watching. 

You drained your flute of… whatever they were serving. Now was not the time for nerves. And you were a fucking professional. You’d caught many bounties before you ever met Mando, and you’d surely catch more whenever he decided he was tired of carting you around. 

Plus, you looked amazing. Not that it had been easy to accomplish. 

It had taken hours to tame your hair into something presentable and you didn’t have any makeup because _why would you_ , so you had to go to Val’s again. _Then_ he didn’t let you just take it because he knew you didn’t know what you were doing. Worse still, he had made _friends_ with the child. You don’t know how that happened, but Val was chatting away with him while he made you look presentable. 

But none of that irritated you as much as the fact that Mando, the bastard, had denied your every advance that morning. It would’ve been impressive if it hadn’t been a little insulting. 

_“Later,”_ he’d promised. Except that was bullshit because you’d have the baby again later, making it much, much harder for you two to do anything _too_ fun. Not to mention that the mission could go completely wrong and then you’d die horny and disgruntled _at minimum._

Motion from the corner of your eye caught your attention, and you disguised your glance by waving down the bartender. It was the quarry. The bartender stopped in front of you. He was Rodian, you noticed. 

“What can I get for you?” He wore a modulator around his neck, translating his words into basic. 

Luckily, you spoke Rodese. Picked up from a friend of your brothers when you were young, then honed through your exploits as a bounty hunter. You probably weren’t privy to the nuances of the language, but you could get your point across without sounding like an idiot. “ _Could I make a strange request?_ ”

If there was one thing you’d learned in your time, it was to always look to the common man for help. If you could speak to them in a way that made _them_ comfortable, all the better. 

He seemed surprised by your use of his mother tongue. “Go ahead.” 

“ _I am looking for a partner to go home with this evening, and I need to look…”_ you struggled for the word. Luckily, the rodian seemed to pick up on your intentions.

“I may have just the thing.” He stepped away from you to peruse the bar. He returned with an elaborate piece of glass you realized belatedly was the bottle. “This is very exclusive, expensive, and _strong.”_

You cringed as he poured a couple glasses. It also probably cost more credits than your last few bounties had earned you. “How much?” You grabbed at your bag, even though you knew you didn’t have enough. 

He was staring at you. “You know, you could always charge it to your room.” Oh, he _knew._ But he didn’t seem interested in exposing you. 

You blinked before grinning. “Oh, yeah. 6089.” 

The rodian didn’t ask any more questions, but you could tell he was amused. Another thing you knew about the common man: they loved to stick it to a rich asshole. He slid the delicate glasses your way. “Good luck.” And with that, he was off to help another patron. 

You took the glasses, walking over to the roped off area where your quarry sat already surrounded by beautiful women, men, and beings of some unspecified gender. It was insane, admittedly, to think that he would choose you over any of them. 

Except it wasn’t, becoming you had something they didn’t; a total lack of shame and the power of underestimation on your side. These were things you could wield like a weapon. 

Once you were within a couple steps of his corner of the lounge, a large security guard stepped in front of you, blocking your path. “This section is reserved.” 

“Right, yeah.” You began. “I just wanted to give this to _him._ ” You leaned around the guard to make eye contact with the Arkanian: one Iarren Syko. 

He looked vaguely amused at the sight of you. “What have we here?” He rose and took a couple of steps in your direction, but remained behind the thick velvet ropes that separated you. “A human in a borrowed dress? And a bold one at that.” The rest of his entourage laughed. 

You blinked at him. “I… what makes you say that?” 

He laughed derisively. “It isn’t tailored, obviously. And that swill,” he gestured at the drinks in your hand, “is what the bartender offers any poor fool who doesn’t know how to spend their money properly.” More sounds of amusement from his friends. Embarrassing yourself was part of the plan, but _yikes,_ this was bad.

“Okay,” you said, unable to help your blush, “fine. You caught me. I just wanted… I don’t make much. And the opportunity came up for me to have this night and I wanted it to be…”

“You wanted some fantasy? A fairytale where, for one evening, you get to live a life you’ll never have?” His gaze was intense, eyes trailing over your exposed skin. 

You shrugged, a movement meant to draw his eye to the plunging neckline of your dress. “Yeah.” 

He laughed, then. At you. At how much of a fool you were. You resisted a smile of your own. Hook, line, and fucking sinker. 

“Well then, it is your lucky day, isn’t it?” He looked at the guard. “Let her through. And tell someone to get us _real_ drinks.” 

The guard stepped aside, and unclipped the rope, allowing you to walk right into the quarry’s inner circle. The others around him looked on in shock, no longer amused by you. Suddenly, you were a threat. Eyes and their equivalents narrowed at you. Iarren took the drinks from your hand, setting them down to the side before giving you a critical once over. 

“Hmm, this is impressive work. If I were a lesser being, I would’ve taken you for someone who belongs here.” He sat in his chair, leaving you standing awkwardly in front of him. “Turn for me, slowly. Let me get a look at you.” 

Unspoken was the fact that everyone else would be sizing you up as well. 

You did so, making sure to subtly shift the muscles in your back as you spun. Putting on a real show for him. When you were facing him again you offered him the best demure big-eyes pouty-lipped expression you could muster. “So?” 

He laughed. “Come have a seat.” He gestured to the large armrest of his chair. You sat yourself delicately on the perch. Ha! And Mando thought you were being ridiculous. You almost, _almost_ thought it might be worth it to toss a little smirk in the direction you knew he was watching from. Iarren placed a large palm on your back, just above the draping of your dress. “Tell me, have you ever slept with an Arkanian before?”

You shook your head. 

And then he was off, talking about the superiority of his species and how he liked to sample some of the ‘lesser creatures’, unlike many other Arkanians. He had a couple of other weird, bullshitty reasons, but you knew it boiled down to the fact it made him feel better about himself. 

Everyone else around had clearly had more practice than you at listening to his drivel. You did have the best vantage point, however, so it wasn’t too difficult for you to draw his wandering gaze right back to your chest, or your shiny lips, or bare leg peeking out from the slit in your dress. 

You weren’t sure how much longer you would be able to appear interested when he finally made the move you were expecting. His hand slipped from your back down to your ass and gave it a squeeze. You shifted so he had a little better access. 

“Oh, you’ve been listening, hmm? You want me to _show_ you?” How lucky was that? He’d get himself all riled up for you. 

You blinked owlishly at him. “Yes, _please_.” You felt more like a fucking idiot than you did sexy, but he seemed to like it. 

You stood, giving him the space to rise as well. It took effort not to let your gaze wander to the small group around you. If you met their angry, judging looks, you’d lose all the confidence you had in your little ‘sexy’ routine. He bid them all farewell and tilted his head at the guard, who opened the velvet rope for you again. 

His hand remained on your ass, marking you as _his._ Crowds parted for you as he escorted you out of the lounge. When you made it to the hall outside, his hand slid up again to your back before he tucked it inside your dress, fingers trailing over your skin. You shivered. 

It was going to be awesome to kill this guy. 

He kept walking you over to the elevator, prompting you to push the button with a look and a tilt of his head. If you hadn’t had so much recent practice with non-verbal communication, you probably would’ve stood there like an idiot, confused and getting lightly groped. 

As soon as you were on the elevator, he walked you back into the wall and grabbed at your chest with two greedy hands. You made a pitiful sound, something you were sure he’d like. Men liked it when you sounded like a wounded animal during sex; you’d confirmed that many, many times. 

“Mmm, you’re ready for it, aren’t you?” He sounded breathless, and you could feel his bulge pressing against your hip. 

Fuck but he was easy. 

You made another sound when he squeezed your breasts, something breathy and high-pitched. “You’re gonna give it to me?” You brushed your hand over his erection, not quite giving him the satisfaction of a squeeze. 

“Not until you’re desperate for it,” he said before licking a line from the valley of your breasts to your jaw. “Not until you’re begging me like the pitiful little thing you are.” 

Yeesh. This guy’s dirty talk was kind of horrible. It would be one thing if it was with someone you were into, doing a little role play or whatever, but he _meant_ this shit. At least he didn’t seem too interested in kissing your mouth. Actually, he was kind of avoiding looking at your face at all. 

At that point, it was just a game of patience. The ride on the elevator was short, mercifully so, but the floor he stayed on was apparently mostly uninhabited, which meant he was constantly stopping your progress to debauch you right there in the hall. 

You were half-tempted to kill him there. You kept your composure, though. The way your luck worked, the moment you decided to make a move against him would be the moment someone walked out of their room.

By the time you arrived to his room, one of your dress straps were hanging on your shoulder precariously, seconds from falling, and he’d throughly fucked up your hair. There was a split second where you kind of mourned the fact, considering it had taken you _forever_ to do, but you got over it just as quickly since it was surely not going to last after murdering him either.

You were able to wiggle from his grasp long enough to look around at your surroundings. The room was _beautiful,_ almost insanely so. It was dripping in opulence, luxury. You felt kind of uncomfortable, like you didn’t belong. No wonder he had caught you immediately.

“Wow,” you whispered.

“Isn’t it magnificent?” He came up behind you and grabbed at your chest again. “Look at the view.” 

You did so. Actually, your gaze went right to where you knew Mando was. You couldn’t see him. Obviously. But you knew he was there. And then it crossed your mind that he was watching this. Watching you get fondled by some weirdo who hadn’t even gotten your name off of you. 

You wondered what he thought of that. Probably nothing. Still, some little part of you fantasized him getting all jealous, possessive even. 

“It’s amazing,” you said, turning to face Iarren again, “But I was promised an even better view.” 

He chuckled. “You want it so bad,” he grabbed at his groin, “I won’t make you wait.” He unzipped his pants. 

“Wait!” You gave him a demure smile. “Let me?” You didn’t actually wait for a response before taking a step closer to him. 

One hand grabbed at him while the other slipped into the slit of your dress. The garter you were wearing was visible, but the knife tucked against your inner thigh wasn’t. You grabbed it and pressed a sloppy kiss to his throat. 

His eyes drifted shut and you adjusted your grip on the knife. You kissed him along his jaw, tugged at an earlobe with your teeth. He chuckled, pulling you closer against him. You held the knife just behind his field of vision. 

“You’re a spunky little thing, hmm?” 

You couldn’t help your grin. “You have no idea.” Then you plunged the knife into his throat. 

He sputtered, eyes snapping open and hand flying to his neck. You took a step back to watch him grab at the hilt of the knife with slick fingers. 

“If you pull it out, you’ll die faster,” you mentioned conversationally. 

He was clearly trying to say something to you, but couldn’t get it out between the blood and the knife. 

“Hey, it’s really nothing personal. You had a puck. They wanted you dead.” You shrugged. “But you got in a couple of really good boob grabs right before the end. Not bad, right?” 

The gestures he was making at you suggested it was not, in fact, good enough to make up for stabbing him in the neck. He started fumbling at his belt for his comm, possibly trying to call someone from security or a cop or something. Before you could make a move to stop him, a plasma round was buried into his forehead. 

You turned to look out the window, still unable to see Mando but offering him a thumbs up anyway. Then you cringed because what a stupid fucking thing to do when you were trying to show him that you were a professional and would like to keep working with him as a partner. 

You looked down at the body of Iarren Syko again. You and Mando had already planned on leaving him until you were fully ready to get away from Cruandath, not wanting to risk lingering after transferring a body. In the meantime, you were going to rendezvous at your hotel room. 

You pulled your knife from his throat and wiped the excess blood on his suit jacket before tucking it back into your holster. As you walked towards the door, you glanced in the mirror to fix yourself up as best you could. You wanted to look like you just got fucked, not like you just killed a man. 

Satisfied that you looked the part, you left the room, not looking back. 

* * *

You were maybe… a step and a half into the room before Mando came up and grabbed you. You made a noise of confusion as he hefted you up into his arms, holding you by the backs of your thighs and pushing you back into the nearest wall. 

You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his hips as a self preservation technique. And so you could press your pelvis to his. “Well _hel-lo_ there.” You tightened the muscles in your thighs so you could rub yourself up and down along his clothed erection. “Missed you.” 

“It’s only been a couple hours.” 

“I was talking to your dick, which I haven’t had inside me since last night.” You rapped a knuckle against his helmet. “No thanks to you.” 

He pressed you closer to the wall, pinning you. “You did good, tonight.” 

You closed your eyes and dug your nose into the fabric of his cape around his neck. “Oh yeah?” When you hit warm, human skin, you bit down gently before soothing it with your tongue. 

He groaned under your ministrations, making your hips twitch and your cunt _throb_ . His voice, even with the helmet, was _so_ … 

You continued mouthing at his neck, traveling higher until you made it to the part of his jaw you could reach. You ran your lips along the stubble there, enjoying the texture. “Tell me how good I did again.” You weren’t expecting much of an answer, if any, so when he spoke it was like lightning down your spine. 

“You had him the whole time,” he mumbled. “He didn’t stand a chance. I bet the second he saw you, he knew who he wanted to fuck.” 

Maybe, if only because it was so glaringly obvious you didn’t belong. Mando, perhaps, was letting his own opinions influence his storytelling, but it was complimentary and really hot so… You sucked at a spot on his neck, fully intending to give him a bruise there. The heat curled in your gut again.

“He grabbed you, I thought you were going to kill him right there. But you’re too smart for that.” 

Alright, if you didn’t have his dick in your mouth right this very second, you might die. “Lemme down.”

He did immediately. As soon as your feet were on the ground, you dropped to your knees in front of him. You looked up to stare into his visor.

“You’ll have to hold my hair for me.” You grabbed him through his pants, squeezing. One of his hands went to the back of your head, grabbing your hair, while the other slammed against the wall. “You have to finish the story. And I’m gonna be doing this with my eyes closed and this might not be my best work, so you can’t judge me, okay?” You unbuttoned his pants. “Deal?” 

His ragged breath was loud enough to be caught by his helmet. “Yes.” 

You didn’t waste time. As soon as his zipper was down and you had a good enough idea of the lay of the land, so to speak, you closed your eyes and pulled his cock out of his briefs. Maker, it was so hot and hard and _heavy_ and you almost wished he was about to fuck you with it instead. You focused again, however, after running your thumb over the slit to find there was already pre-cum leaking. “Oh, you’re _into_ this,” you said with a grin. 

He was going to reply, you heard the sound of a word being formed, but it was cut off with a gasp when you put the tip in your mouth, swirling your tongue a couple times before dragging along the slit again. You pulled your mouth away to grin up at him. 

“I hope that was you about to keep telling me the story.”

“F-fuck.”

“You were saying how smart I am, I believe.” Then you licked him, dragging your tongue slowly from base to tip before taking him in your mouth. You used your own spit to reduce friction as you tugged at the base of his cock. 

The grip on your hair grew tighter and his hips jerked hard, forcing him a little deeper, but otherwise he had enough composure to continue. “He was probably imagining this all night, how good - _fuck_ \- how good you’d look just like this.” 

You began to bob your head, agonizingly slow at first, sucking playfully at the tip each time. When he started rolling his hips, fucking into your mouth, you opened up your throat and let it happen. 

He groaned, and _whew,_ alright, you were so aroused it was kind of painful. You yanked the hem of your dress up, letting it pool around your waist before rubbing at your clit through your underwear, moaning at the relief. 

He jerked again, off rhythm. You pulled off of him again, but didn’t stop rubbing circles onto your clit. “Poor guy,” you began conversationally, “I’ve _heard_ it’s quite a sight.” You were still jerking him, almost lazily, allowing him a moment to gather himself, but never quite relenting. 

“And then, right when he thought he was going to see you, going to have you on your knees for him, you stabbed him in the fucking neck.” 

You laughed and without warning took him back in your mouth, _deep_. He pulled your hair hard, unintentionally, but it drew another moan from you that has him cursing softly. You used your other hand to cup his balls as you continued bobbing your head, hollowing your cheeks. 

“I’m - _fuck_ \- I’m-“ 

You took him deep as you could before swallowing around him, and he was _gone_. 

The hand that had been holding your hair joined the other on the wall. You didn’t move as he came, swallowing again when you were sure you weren’t going to embarrass yourself by choking on cum. 

When he was done, you sat back on your heels, wiping your mouth before tucking him back into his briefs. You rose in between his arms, opening your eyes as you did and giving him a cheeky grin. His chest was heaving and his helmet was still facing down. When he did raise his head to meet your gaze, you pressed your lips to the bottom of the T shape on his visor. 

“Good?” You asked. 

“Can’t… fuck you now.” 

You shrugged. “I’ll live. Been wanting to do that for a while anyway.” You rubbed your thighs together, because, okay, you _were_ still pretty hot and bothered. “We need to pick up the kid.” 

He looked down, noticing your squirming, then back up. “Eyes closed.”

You did as you were told, but you knew you didn’t really have time for this. “Honestly, Mando, it can wait. I’m worried Val might’ve turned the baby against us. You saw them earlier.” 

He didn’t respond, but you felt him lift your dress and his warm fingers rubbing your clit was answer enough. You hummed with pleasure. 

“Oh- okay. You convinced me.” 

“Don’t worry. This won’t take long.” He promised.

* * *

You’d just finished setting the coordinates for Nevarro. 

You stretched with a yawn before rising from the pilot’s seat to climb down into the main hold of the Crest. The baby had apparently missed his father, because he hadn’t let Mando out of his sight since you’d picked him up. That was probably fair. You’d had to leave him a lot lately, something Mando told you he didn’t usually do if he could help it. 

You heard Mando’s voice before you saw him. He was sitting on the ground across from the child, his legs crossed.

“ _Me’sen._ Ship.” 

You watched Mando gesture around himself. The baby cocked his head, looking around. He pointed at you. 

“ _Dala._ Woman.” He knocked his fist against his chest plate. “ _Beskar’gam._ Armor.” 

You walked over to sit next to the child, running your fingers gently over his head as you did so. “What is that?” 

“Mando’a.” He answered. “Teaching foundlings our language is The Way.” 

Your expression brightened with interest. “Mind if I listen in? Not to brag, but I’ve got a pretty good ear for language.” Even when you were younger, your brother used to have you translate when he worked with other species. Then you remembered that Mando’s whole culture was built around the fundamental secrecy of hiding one’s face. “Unless it’s like… forbidden or something.”

He tilted his head at you. “No. I can teach you as well.” 

You gave a little cheer, prompting the child to mimic you, throwing his little hands into the air. You smiled down at him, unable to resist picking him up and kissing his forehead before settling him into your lap. “We’re ready.” 

He continued pointing things out in your environment, first in Mando’a and then in English. After he named something, he’d pause for you to repeat it, gently correcting your pronunciation when necessary. The baby was babbling throughout, likely mimicking the fact that you were talking. Every time he did, Mando would pause to tell him what a good job he was doing, which made you laugh with delight. 

It was a peaceful little scene, a nice interlude after how busy you’d been wrangling bounties over the past few weeks. 

It was almost enough to make you forget how nervous you were about Nevarro. Mando hadn’t really mentioned whether or not he wanted you to stay with him. You were never really a _planner,_ per se, but any insight into his thoughts would really help to ease your anxiety over the whole matter. From the moment you finished your last mission, your chest has been tight with uncertainty and dread. 

The baby began fussing in your lap, his usual twisting and squirming that meant he wanted to run around on his own two feet. You relented, setting him down and watching him toddle off. 

Mando sighed as he watched him. “Guess we’re done for today.” 

You chuckled. “If it makes you feel any better, he’s probably going to be a baby for a long time. You’ve got time to teach him.” 

You settled into an easy silence, both of you watching the baby entertain himself by exploring the small space of the main hold. Then your stomach fluttered again and you knew that you’d feel sick all week if you didn’t just ask Mando what he was thinking. 

“Hey, uh… do you- um, have you thought about… whether I’m going to stay with you?” You couldn’t even look at him, you were so embarrassed. By the stuttering and by sounding that you cared _way_ too much about the answer. 

“Why are you hiding?” 

You looked up at him, face hot. “I don’t know. Scared of the answer, I guess.” You wanted to look away again, but resisted the urge. 

He nodded slowly. “What do you want?” 

“I… I didn’t think it was really about me?” That hadn’t been the deal he laid out for you weeks ago. 

“Humor me.” 

You swallowed, trying to decide if your argument should include the fucking. “I think… we work pretty well together.” 

He stopped you by raising a hand. “What do you _want_?” 

When was the last time anyone had asked you about what you wanted? _Had_ anyone ever asked you what you wanted? If so, you couldn’t call forth the memory. “I want… I want to stay. I like it here.” Which felt kind of like an understatement. 

He nodded once. “Okay.” 

You blinked at him. “I- is that all? Okay?” 

“Yes.” He rose and turned to climb up to the cockpit. 

“Wait!” 

He paused, turning to look at you again. Once his gaze was on you, you realized you didn’t actually have anything to say to him. It was just that… you were expecting an argument. Having to convince him to let you stay. 

“I just,” you gestured helplessly, “Um. Thank you.” 

He stared at you, then nodded again before climbing up the ladder. Well then. You let a grin overtake your face and looked over at the child, who was blinking at you with wide, innocent eyes. 

“I get to stay,” you told him, even though he had been in the room and also maybe didn’t understand a word you were saying. You laughed. “I get to _stay.”_ The baby started laughing too, clearly pleased that you seemed happy. 

You looked around at the ship that grew more and more familiar by the day. You couldn’t remember that last time you felt elation like this. You couldn’t remember the last time you had a little hope for your future. 

“Things are finally looking up for me, little guy.”

Once again, you should’ve kept your stupid mouth shut. 

* * *

You’d actually been to Nevarro before. 

Then you vowed you wouldn’t ever go back _ever._ Which was probably a little bit of an over-dramatic stance at the time but you felt like you were entitled to it. The last time you’d been there, you were looking for bounties. Desperate for a puck. 

You hadn’t really been in the game long enough to know that Nevarro was guild territory. Actually, you were pretty sure you hadn’t been aware of the _existence_ of such a thing. Not being guild was pretty dangerous business when you were a bounty hunter, not necessarily because anyone would hurt you if you weren’t, but because it meant you were completely alone and therefore fair game for all levels of fucking-with. 

So you hadn’t left Nevarro with any pucks, _and_ you managed to essentially inform an entire cantina’s worth of dangerous people that they were free to do whatever they wanted to you and no one would care. You had to lay low for a while after that incident, which in turn left you even more strapped for credits than before. 

It crossed your mind, briefly, that you ought to mention this to Mando. 

It didn’t really take long for you to decide against it. That was then, this is now. Guild or not, you weren’t alone. And you weren’t alone with none other than a fucking Mandalorian. 

You forced yourself to remember that, running it through your mind again and again. You were safe here. You followed Mando down the ramp of the ship, eyes growing wide at the sight of Greef Karga at the bottom. His expression was grim. 

“The Mandalorian,” he began, voice booming. Then his gaze fell to you. “And company.” 

Silence. Then the child’s laughter. Your gaze snapped over to the little being in Mando’s arms, watching as he reached out towards Karga with little grabby hands. Karga laughed. 

“Little one!” He walked over, strides long and confident. He took the baby from Mando’s grip, cooing at him as he did so. 

You watched, incredulous, as he tickled the child’s tummy, earning more adorable giggles. Karga looked back up at you, smiling. 

“Didn’t know that Mando picked up another stray.” 

You were about to speak when Mando’s voice cut you off. “I didn’t. She threatened the child.” 

Karga whistled. “And lived?” 

You shrugged. “Wasn't my call.”

The other man considered you, and your response. Then he huffed a laugh. “Well then, sounds like we have some catching up to do.” Then he turned to lead you into town. 

You looked over at Mando, who was already staring back at you. “You alright?” His voice was pitched low. 

“What makes you ask?”

He tilted his helmet. “You’re quiet.” 

You inhaled and began walking, not waiting to see if Mando was going to follow. He did. “I don’t know yet,” you began, tossing him a weak smile over your shoulder, “but I’ll keep you updated.”

* * *

You were sitting in a booth with a Mandalorian, a guild contractor, and a baby of undisclosed origin. 

It felt like the start of a weird joke. You wondered what the punchline might be. 

Karga requested a bottle of Soulean brandy be brought to the table, along with three glasses. On the one hand, you kind of felt like you needed a drink. On the other… 

He leaned back, looking between the three of you. “Well, Mando. I’m impressed as always by your work. Four pucks, four bounties, per usual. I am intrigued, however, by this little lady.” He reached over to pour himself a portion of the brandy. He poured some for you and Mando as well, though you were sure Mando had never taken him up on his offer. 

Your palms were _so sweaty._ Like, pouring liquid. “Oh, uh. I’m not… really that interesting.” You grabbed your glass, but didn’t take a sip. 

The man chuckled. “I highly doubt that. Who are you, exactly?” 

You offered your name. 

“That doesn’t mean anything to me.” 

You swallowed thickly. “Right. Um. I’m a bounty hunter.” You couldn’t have said that with less confidence if you tried. 

Karga leaned forward, smiling like the cat who caught the canary. “That’s more like it. Why haven’t I heard of you? Who are you with?” He looked like he already knew the answer. 

You took a shaky breath. “N-no one.” 

“No one?” Karga’s eyebrows shot up in faux surprise. “How have you been getting bounties?” 

You shrugged. “Not… everyone requires membership to give bounties.” Another fact he surely knew. What did he want you to say? Why did he want you to admit how much of a failure you were?

Karga hummed. “No, I suppose not. But it must be hard. And those bounties can’t be worth much. How have you been getting by?” He glanced over at Mando. “Mando paying you for something else?” 

Your cheeks burned. The comment was enough to spur Mando to respond. “Stop.” All eyes went to him. He didn’t move even a millimeter. “We are here for a transaction.” He placed four pucks on the table and slid them over. 

Karga stared at Mando silently for a moment. “Of course.” He took the pucks and exchanged them for four more. “Four pucks. Same as usual.” He looked over at you. “I’d offer you a couple, but you aren’t guild.” 

You shook your head. “Don’t worry about it. I’m, uh… taking a break.” You didn’t know if Mando was supposed to have help catching his bounties. It was probably better to be safe than sorry. 

“Right.” He sounded like he didn’t believe you. “You know, Mando and myself could sponsor you, try to bring you into the guild. It isn’t wise for you to remain an independent.” 

You bit your lip. “I-I’ve been fine so far.” A bold faced lie, and one he caught immediately. 

Karga raised a brow. “Have you?” He let the question settle somewhere between you. “I’m just suggesting that the situation will only get worse if you don’t get yourself some protection.” 

Your stomach twisted with anxiety. “Y-yeah. Okay.” Your words were pinched, high pitched with nerves. 

“She’s under _my_ protection.” Mando said, modulator fading the ground out words into static. 

“You’ve got a child to look out for, and she’s a grown woman.” Karga dismissed the words with a wave of his hand. “Consider my offer, dear. I’m just looking out for you.” He gave you a winning smile and took another sip of his drink. “How long are two staying in town? I might have a little mission for you; to prove your good intentions.”

* * *

The baby had started fussing when Karga began telling you and Mando what he wanted from you, and you immediately offered to take the child outside for some air. 

You walked out on shaky legs. The baby calmed almost immediately, as if sensing your stress. You were thankful for that, at least. 

The offer should’ve been a good one. After all, he was right. You probably would’ve jumped at the opportunity to join a guild only a month ago. But guild membership came with expectations. You’d be expected to capture bounties, by yourself, and bring them in within a certain timeframe. If you failed… it fell on Karga. And he was pleasant enough, but you knew he wouldn’t stand for such a thing. If you failed him, you would be toast. 

And it wasn’t really like you could say ‘no’, either. He was _right._ You needed something to fall back on. In your line of work, counting on a single other person was stupid. Mando was good, the best, but even he could die. Or he could just decide he was ready to go at it alone again. 

You got it; why he was keeping you around currently. Because you weren’t bad in a fight. Because you’d fuck him or blow him relatively often with no expectations. Because he could always pawn the baby off on you if he needed a break from parenting. Maybe you were even good for a laugh or two. But at the end of the day, he didn’t _need_ you. No one did. Which was a damn shame because you so desperately needed _someone_ that you’d risk your life for a mockery of a friend. 

You were always tagging along, offering to stick around for another mission, or maybe two. All because you couldn’t make it by yourself. It was pitiful. Fucking embarrassing. It had always been this way for you. It would take Karga no time at all to realize you couldn’t be guild without someone else to leech onto. 

You could hear Mando’s heavy footsteps behind you, and you forced yourself to ignore those thoughts before you spiraled. Mando was onto you, he knew you were uncomfortable, _scared._ This whole day had been embarrassing enough already. 

“They’ve given us a place to stay. And Karga wants to keep the child for the night.”

“Oh yeah?” You turned to look over your shoulder. 

He was staring at you, not saying anything. But also saying a lot with the pointed silence. You raised a brow.

“You feel safe here?” You rose, picking up the child as you did so. 

“I…” he paused, like he wasn’t sure how to phrase the answer. “I don’t feel unsafe. But I wouldn’t…” 

You grinned, though remained a polite distance away from him. “Do you want to sleep on the ship?” 

He nodded once, the movement sharp as if he were communicating on a battlefield instead of sneakily deciding to go fuck on his ship rather than sleep in a cozier bed. You could feel the heat in your lower regions just thinking about it. This was perfect, just what you needed. Mando was easy to handle when you were naked. 

“Okay,” you said, glancing around, “I assume you don’t want your friends to see.” To see you both turning down their hospitality. To see that he’s fucking some random, guildless drifter. “Meet me there? In… thirty minutes?” You passed him his child. 

He nodded again and turned on his heel, walking away. You waited a beat, watching him go, before turning to head the opposite direction. 

* * *

You hadn’t actually checked the time when you made it to the Crest, too excited to the ‘surprise’ you had planned. Well, it wasn’t a surprise really, but it _was_ a carefully laid trap. 

You’d already been eyeing the structure on the wall for this. It was meant to be a table, you thought, or it could be a bunk, perhaps. Whatever it was, the slab of metal was attached to the wall on hinges with retractable arms until it needed to be used, in which case it could be unlatched and pulled down. 

You’d already done so, hoping he’d fuck you against it. 

And just in case the sight of it alone wasn’t enough, you’d already stripped yourself butt naked and tied a sash around your eyes. Then it was a waiting game. Which wouldn’t be so bad if you’d remembered to check the fucking time. 

You sighed as you leaned against the edge of the pull-down table. It was kind of cold on the Crest when the ship wasn’t on. It felt so much larger and emptier than it really was without Mando and his weird kid rustling around inside. 

The loneliness of it only served to send a chill down your spine. Well then, you’d just have to warm yourself up while you waited. You easily boosted yourself up onto the table, shivering when your bare ass hit the cold metal. You shuffled back just a little before leaning back on one hand and dropping the other to your warm folds, humming at the heat and slight wetness there. 

Just the anticipation of his arrival had you rearing to go, so you began gently, lazily rubbing at your clit. Occasionally dipping a single finger inside of yourself to curl up and brush your g-spot. None of it was enough to be satisfying, but knowing Mando was on his way kept it from being frustrating. 

You grinned to yourself when you heard the quiet hiss of the hold door opening. You heard him take a couple steps in and stop. He could see you, and so could anyone who happened to walk by. That normally didn’t do much for you, but pretty much anything that involved him made you hot nowadays. 

You were, of course, ever the performer. “ _Oh,_ I’m so lonely in here, all _alone_ and horny. If only the owner of this ship would come home. I bet _he_ could help me out.” 

Mando snorted, but you didn’t hear any more footsteps. “ _He’s_ trying to figure out your narrative here. What, you found a ship in the middle of nowhere and decided to strip completely to wait for the owner?” 

You sighed overdramatically. “C’mon Mando, you’ve seen the holos. It’s not about the story, it’s about you bending me over this slab and fucking me like you mean it.” 

“Is that what you want?” His voice dropped, which actually did send a thrill through you. 

You moved your hand out of the way and spread your legs a little further, offering an unobstructed view of yourself. “Come see for yourself.” 

There was a soft sound: hydraulics from the door closing. Then a clatter, something armored hitting the floor. His warm hands landed on your thighs a moment later; it must’ve been his gloves he’d discarded. 

He slid his hands up and down your thighs slowly. “Mmm. Looks like you’ve been waiting for longer than thirty minutes.” 

You arched your back to bring his gaze up to your breasts. “Sometimes it feels like all I do is think about fucking you.” You rolled a nipple between your fingers. “So yeah, I’ve been waiting since the last time.” Which had been on Cruandath several days ago. 

His grip on you tightened. “I’m sorry to keep you waiting.” He let you go and his helmet hissed as he removed it. His mouth was on your other nipple a moment later, flicking it with his tongue before sucking it gently. You grabbed the hair at the back of his head, holding it but not pulling. 

“Mando - mmm - _Mando_. This is nice. I really like it.” You tugged his hair then, pulling him off of your chest. “But I want you inside me right now.” 

He didn’t respond, didn’t move for a long moment. Then he chuckled. “Bossy.” He pulled back and you released him. His warm hands were on your hips the next second and before you’d even fully processed that, he had pulled you off the table and turned you. 

“Now we’re talking,” you said, bending forward to rest your forearms on the table. 

He grabbed your upper arms, standing you back up and pulling you against himself. You shivered at the press of so much cold armor. “You’re not ready yet,” his voice was right next to your ear. 

You groaned. “You _saw_ how ready I am.” 

He grabbed your chest with one hand, squeezing hard. “You’re _not ready.”_ His other hand went to your clit, rolling it between his fingers, making your hips buck. He let go of your boob to wrap his arm around you lower, across your hips. “See? Stay still.” 

This was a man who truly loved playing with your pussy. He couldn’t even fucking see what he was doing and he was driving you _insane._ He slid two thick fingers into you, but couldn’t get them very far because of the awkward angle. He hummed in thought. 

Then he adjusted his grip, grabbing one leg and hoisting it up so it was draped over his arm. You instinctively grabbed your thigh right under your knee to help. His other arm wrapped around your torso and hugged you to him, letting you lean your weight against him. This time, when his fingers slid inside, he was able to brush against your g-spot easily. 

“Better.” He whispered into your neck before gently biting you there. 

You moaned. “It’s - _uh, uh, uh_ \- do I look like a fucking,” he used his thumb to rub circles onto your clit, earning a whine and a pause before you could finish your thought. “c-c-contortionist?” 

He hadn’t stopped kissing your neck, but he did so then to respond. “You look fucking incredible like this.” 

You didn’t bother to react to that statement, choosing instead to focus on riding his hand, which was _impossible_ in this position. You were getting close, but he wouldn’t speed up or give you what you needed to actually cum. Finally, you made a loud noise of frustration. 

“Mmm,” he might as well have been taking note of the weather or something equally mundane for all that he sounded unconcerned. 

“I fucking- I need-“ you moaned, unable to get the words out as you found yourself winding ever closer to your release with no end in sight. 

Then he dropped your leg as he pulled his hand away. You managed a sound of utter loss before his palm on your upper back forced you to bend over the table, your palms and cheek pressing into the cold surface. Then, finally, _finally_ he lined up and slammed into you, all at once. It forced the air from your lungs, the thoughts from your head. All you could manage was a strangled ‘ _yes_ ’. 

Whatever progress you’d lost when he let you go was found again immediately, and you knew you weren’t going to last much longer. He grabbed your hips so hard you could feel the small prickles from his short nails, which only really served to send you higher, and began fucking you like you knew he liked: hard. 

You were more prepared this time than you were last time, and you wanted to give as much as you got. You ground back into him as best you could, arching your back, turning your head enough so he could see your expression while he unmade you. Your lips were swollen, bitten by yourself during his previous onslaught. 

It must’ve been tempting enough, because he was leaning over you a moment later to nip at your bottom lip. Not that the multitasking made him relent in his bruising pace. You couldn’t kiss him back. The best you could do was gasp into his mouth, which he seemed to have no issue with. 

You reached down to rub your clit, send yourself right over the edge, and that was when he stood up straight and fully pulled out of you _again._

You cried out, unable to stop yourself if you tried. “ _Mando!”_

He didn’t explain himself, just pulled you up again and turned you. “Lay down.” The command implied that it needed to happen _now_ or he’d leave you like this forever, so you laid back onto the table. “And hold these.” He grabbed your legs and bent them at the knees, passing them to your grip. 

If your brain wasn’t scrambled, you’d maybe feel a little embarrassed by how exposed you were, but he cursed at the sight.

“Fucking _perfect.”_ He leaned down to kiss you roughly. 

“Mando, take a fucking picture or get on with it before I catch a cramp or something,” you managed to force out between the onslaught of his lips. 

He pulled away for a moment and then he was filling you again, hot and thick and perfect as ever. And so _deep._ You cried out at the feeling. 

You wanted to say something, about how _good_ this was, about how he always fucked you _just right,_ but the breath had been stolen from your body. Every time he pushed into you made stars burst behind your eyes, sent lightning up your spine. 

Mando, for his part, also seemed to enjoy this particular position. He was generally a pretty quiet lover; mostly grunts, very, very low moans. Not this time. He had taken up a mantra, repeating your name, voice reverent like he was saying a prayer. 

It only served to drive you higher and higher until you needed to cum so badly you thought you might explode. 

“Need you to- need-“ 

He reached between you to press a hand to your pelvis, palm just barely resting against your clit. Every thrust caused you to brush against him and it was enough to finally push you over the edge. Your orgasm _ripped_ through you, so strong you could only manage a gasp. You clenched so hard around him that it set off his as well. It clearly startled him, if the choked off sound he made was any indication. 

“ _Fuck-“_

Your chest was heaving even after the sensations dwindled. You twitched with sudden over-sensitivity, and Mando moved his hand immediately. You let go of your legs, letting them dangle over the edge of the table. 

“I think you just fucking killed me,” you mumbled, eyes sliding shut. 

Mando huffed. “I was thinking the same thing.” He leaned down to kiss you, your lips sliding together slowly. “You okay?” 

You hummed your assent into his mouth. “Cuddles?” You asked, kind of joking. Kind of not. 

He snorted. “Go clean up,” he helped you off the table. “ _Then_ cuddles.” 

* * *

You could deal with lots of things. 

Giant creatures were not one of them. 

“Oh we’re fucked, oooh we’re fucked…” Your panicked mantra continued as Mando made another harrowing maneuver. You wished your seatbelt was tighter. You wished you weren’t equally afraid of closing your eyes as you were with keeping them open. You kind of wished Mando had shot you in the cantina. 

The baby giggled when Mando sent the ship careening into a barrel roll to avoid one of the long tentacles of the creature. He did a sharp banked turn, firing into the flesh of the creature as he flew by. 

You should’ve stayed in town, at least for this mission. Why did Mando agree to do this kind of crazy shit? Because Greef Karga was his ‘ _friend_ ’? He wasn’t the one putting out for Mando semi-regularly, so it was beyond you why his request to help down the beast topped yours to say no and get the fuck out of there. 

Allegedly, all Mando had to do was fire some specially made missile at the creature and it would go dormant for another hundred years or so and stop fucking with the tides. 

The cavern it lived in - or under, rather - was massive. You’d flown in from a small entrance in the cliff side, intending to fire the missile and get out of there without actually engaging with the monster. Unfortunately, neither of you had considered the extra weight of the round and Mando clipped a large stalactite when he flew in. It hit the water with a thunderous splash, and you’d been barely escaping a watery death ever since. 

“Please fucking shoot the missle and let’s _get out of here_!” 

He grunted when a tentacle clipped the ship, causing it to shake and groan. “I’ve got one shot. It has to count.” He was right, but you were maybe one or two barrel rolls from launching your lunch onto the view screen. 

The baby made an inquisitive noise at you, as if he was totally unconcerned at the dangers just outside. Well good for him. He reached out towards you, opening and closing his little fist. Maybe he wasn’t totally unafraid. You picked him up, holding him to your chest. 

“You okay, little guy?” 

His hand went to your temple, big eyes squeezing shut. You glanced over at Mando, who was still concentrating on getting the shot. 

“What are you doing?” You asked the child. 

He didn’t respond, obviously, but suddenly you felt yourself grow calm. 

“W-what are… what is?” You blinked slowly, almost unable to re-open your eyes. The soothing feeling filled you up, warming your limbs until you felt almost weightless. You heard a sound, but couldn’t figure out that it was. It was a struggle, but you managed to turn your head enough to see Mando glancing over his shoulder at you. The sound was… your name? He was calling to you.

“Yes?” Your own voice sounded distant and your vision was growing dark. 

He was talking again, but you couldn’t understand him. The last thing you saw was the child’s eyes staring at you. 

* * *

You woke up some undetermined amount of time later. 

More alarming than that: you woke up an undetermined amount later on a small, sandy beach when you were _certain_ you’d fallen under on a ship. You sat up quickly, already on defense, then calmed at the sight of Mando with the child in his arms. 

“What the _fuck_?” 

Why were you on the ground? What had even happened to you in the first place? Why was Mando staring at you so stiffly, hand down by his hip like he was preparing to pull his gun on you?

“I’m going to tell you something. If you can’t stay calm, I’ll have to shoot you.” 

You hadn’t heard his voice so cold in weeks. It put you on edge. “Okay…” 

“The child is… special.” 

You blinked dumbly at him. “ _He_ did that _?_ ” 

Mando stared. “Have you ever heard of the Jedi?” 

Uhhhh… “Uhhh… kind of? I mean, I guess the same amount as anyone else?” You looked at the baby’s sleeping form. “You’re telling me that he’s got… powers?” 

Mando nodded once. His fingers flexed by his gun.

Your gaze dropped to his hand, then back up to his visor. “What the fuck, Mando? I don’t care that your kid has powers. We all have our shit, whatever.” You frowned at him. “But I’m kind of hurt that you thought you were gonna have to shoot me over it.” 

He visibly relaxed. “Don’t be. I have to protect him.” 

You frowned. “I don’t… you can’t just tell me not to be hurt?” You shook your head. “You know what, never mind. We’ve got bigger problems, it seems.” You looked past him at the Razor Crest, which looked a little worse for wear. He turned to look as well. 

“We will have to stay the night,” Mando concluded after several tense moments. 

You sighed. “Okay. It’s not so bad without the monster, at least.” 

Mando walked over to where you sat, crouching in front of you and passing you the child. You took him easily, adjusting him in your grip. Mando brushed his fingers gently over the baby’s head. “Are you really upset with me?” He was looking at his child, but the words were directed to you. 

You considered that. “No,” you said on an exhale. 

“I get it. You don’t trust anyone. You’ve already told me that.” 

“You’re not a threat.” 

“Usually,” you said with a sad smile. “But I could’ve been if I handled the news badly.” You looked down at the creature in your arms. “I can't believe this little thing is so powerful.” 

Mando sighed, the sound rasping through his vocoder. “He needs to be brought back to his people. It’s… dangerous for him to go on untrained.” 

You pursed your lips. So that was the people he’d been referring to. You hadn’t realized, when you mentioned it before, that he’d intended to bring him to the Jedi. “You’re going to give him up?” The _to them_ was implied. The Jedi were a mysterious group, you knew that much. There was a strict code they were expected to follow, and their missions were the most dangerous in the galaxy. 

He nodded slowly. “Yes.” You wondered if he’d told anyone else yet. Not about the child’s powers, but that his days with the little one were so numbered. 

“I’m sorry,” you’d seen how much he enjoyed the child’s presence. 

“It’s the right thing to do for him.” 

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “Doesn’t make it any easier for you.” 

He was silent. “I’d never… had a companion before.” 

You knew the feeling. “Mando.” You leaned forward to press your forehead to his, your eyes falling shut as you did so. He tensed up, but otherwise didn’t move. You weren’t sure what to make of that. “I know it’s hard to be alone.” 

He was silent. And so, so still. Your eyes fluttered open and you noticed a couple wet dots of sand. This moment was too… you didn’t really deserve to see him like this. In fact, you were sure he didn’t _want_ to do this in front of you. You closed your eyes again, determined to let him do what he needed as though you weren’t there. 

You both sat there like that for a little while. You kept your eyes closed when he pulled away. And when you felt him take the child from your arms. And even when you heard the soft sound of him walking back towards the ship. You didn’t open them until you heard the hiss of the door. 

He walked into the ship alone, leaving the door open for you. You didn’t move yet; you couldn’t. You watched the waves break, watched the water race up the sand towards you then rush back into the rest of the ocean. Peace and tension in equal measures. 

_Fucking Nevarro._


End file.
